ip 


iilliijii 


■;f  fi;::fll'»S 


!l)l 


:;»-; 


Liz\j-sur-  Ouvcq 
Trilpoi't 


m 


JIEAUX 

-Je-Pont 


# 
ChStiUon-  sur  -  M  arr^ 
Belleau         Jaulqonne  ^//'' 

Mont  St.  Pe 
Vauxw 

CHATEAU-]^IERRY 
CHAP«^-    ^^ 

L>nPERTE~SOUS  -JOUARRE 


^Joinville 

jiFehtom]» 

\^j_JJ  Ch  enn  evi  ^i-es 


Montmtrail 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


ovV'^ 


UNTAIN  ,# 
OF  ''''^'' 

SIMS  / 


Camp  of  Chalons 


Camp  of  Attila 


nValmij 


CHALONS-SUR-MARNE 


iVITRy-LE -FRANCOIS 


Matignicouri 
«         ^Perthes 


ST.DIZIER 


N 


W 


SKETCH 

OF  THE 
COURSE 

OF  THE 


MARNE  RIVER 


^ABoloqn? 


CHAUMONT 


Rolamponi 


SOURCE 
OF  THE 
MARNE 


^LANGRES 


The  Marne 

Historic  a7id  Picturesque 


The  Spirit  of  the  Marne 

[Paffe  321] 

Reproduced  by  special  permission  of  the  sculptor — M.  Francois  Cogne 


The  marne 

Historic  and  Picturesque 


By 
JOSEPH   MILLS    HANSON 

Author  of  The  Conque&t  of  the  Missouri 


Illustrations  by  J.  Andre  Smith 


CHICAGO 

A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO. 

1922 


Copyright 

A.   C.   McClurg  &  Co. 

1922 


Published  October,  1922 


Copyrighted  in  Great  Britain 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  Amepica 


2^ 

Gil 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I     A  River  of  History i 

II    The  Cradle  of  the  Marne 7 

III  Langres  the  Ancient 17 

IV  Past  Blue  Bassigny  Hills 48 

V     Chaumont-en-Bassigny 62 

VI  Chiefly  for  Those  Who  "Fought  the  Battle  of  Chau- 

mont" 69 

VII     Where  Dreams  the  Still  Canal 115 

VIII     Joinville-en-Vallage        128 

IX     Art  in  the  Iron  Industry 133 

X     St.  Dizier  and  the  Plain  of  Orconte 143 

XI  Vitry-le-Frangois  and  the  First  Battle  of  the  Marne  159 

XII     The  Champagne  Pouilleuse 174 

XIII  Chalons,  Keeper  of  the  Mighty  Legend     ....  180 

XIV  The  Scourge  of  God 192 

XV    The   Liquid   Gold  of   Champagne 201 

XVI     In  the  Shadow  of  Pope  Urban  II 214 

XVII     The  Reach  of  Dormans 225 

XVIII     The  Rock  of   the   Marne 233 

XIX     Where  Dwelt  the  Sluggard  Kings 243 

XX     Fishermen's  Paradise 252 

XXI     Dream  Country 261 

XXII     Meaux 281 

XXIII  Ile-de-France       292 

XXIV  The  Playmate  of  Paris 306 


304SS36 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

The  Spirit  of  the  Marne Frontispiece 

The  Valley  of  the  Marne  from  the  base  of  the  ramparts, 
Langres lo 

Grotto  of  Sabinus  by  the  source  of  the  Marne lo 

The  very  name  of  Rolampont  has  in  it  the  breath  of  romance     52 

Damremont  Barracks,  Chaumont,  American  General  Head- 
quarters   60 

Champ  de  Mars  and  the  Chateau  Gloriette,  Chaumont     .     .     60 

The  old  Donjon  garden,  overlooking  the  valley  of  the  Suize, 
Chaumont        70 

The  Tour  Hautefeuille  and  St.  Jean's  twin  spires,  Chaumont    70 

At  Condes  the  Marne  runs  deep  and  still 76 

Rue  Victor  Mariotte,  Chaumont 76 

Choignes  with  Chaumont  in  the  distance yy 

Choignes  on  the  Marne yy 

The  Rue  Saint  Jean,  Chaumont 104 

Where  Chamarandes  drowses  beneath  the  Chaumont  hill     .  105 

The  "  lavoir  "  by  the  river  is  an  institution  in  every  Marne 
village 140 

The  narrow,  crooked  streets  around  the  church,  Joinville     .  148 

Timbered     houses.     Hauteville 148 

St.  Dizier 149 

Vitry-le-Franqois  has  wide,  straight  streets 160 

The  mills  at  Vitry-le-Frangois 160 

A  battlefield  of  the  Marne 161 

Sector  of  the  Marne  battlefield  near  Mezy 161 


Illustrations 


PAGE 

The  Cathedral  of  St.  Etienne  at  Chalons 182 

Men,  women  and  children  gather  the  ripe  grapes     .     .     .     .210 
French  fishermen  fish  —  and  never  catch  anything!     .     .     .218 

Chatillon-sur-Marne 218 

Charteves,  white-walled  beneath  its  riven  church  tower     .     .  234 

Charteves.     Two-man  rifle  pit  in  foreground 234 

Chateau-Thierry  itself,   eloquent  with  traditions     ....  244 

Hill  204,  looking  toward  Chateau-Thierry 244 

A  street  in  Chateau-Thierry 245 

A  "dug-out"  and  listening  post  in  the  famous  Bois  de  Belleau  248 

The  Abbey  Tower,  Essomes 254 

Charly's  main  street  unrolls  its  white  ribbon  toward  Paris     .  255 
Garden  walls  washed  by  the  river,  La  Ferte-sous-Jouarre     .  268 

St.  Jean-les-Deux-Jumeaux 268 

Ussy-sur-Marne  from  the  meadows 269 

Lizy  —  tucked  into  the  last  bend  of  the  Ourcq  River     .     .     .  274 

Pomponne  —  with  Lagny  across  the  river 274 

The  confluence  of  the  Ourcq  and  the  Marne 275 

The  Chateau  at  Lizy-sur-Ourcq 275 

The  charming  old  town  of  Meaux 290 

The  ancient  mills  and  the  ruins  of  the  Market  Bridge,  Meaux  290 

Charenton,  where  the  Marne  enters  the  Seine 291 

The  placid  river  at  Chelles 291 

Le   Moulin  de   Doubes,  Noisiel Z^^ 

The  Marne,  deeply  green,  near  Nogent 310 

The  river  road  —  Nogent 3^0 

First  glimpse  of  the  Seine  bridges  and  distant  Paris     .     .     .318 
The  Marne  on  the  outskirts  of  Paris 3^8 


The  Marne 

Historic  and  Picturesque 


THE  MARNE 

HISTORIC  AND  PICTURESQUE 

CHAPTER  I 

A    RIVER    OF    HISTORY 

ALTHOUGH  it  can  scarcely  be  maintained,  as  a  few 
enthusiasts  would  have  us  believe,  that  rivers  have  been 
the  most  important  factors  in  the  making  of  human  history, 
it  is  hardly  an  exaggeration  to  say  that  they  have  affected  its 
course  more  profoundly  than  any  other  natural  features  of 
the  earth  save  the  oceans  themselves.  One  need  regard  for 
but  a  moment  the  influence  upon  human  events  of  such  streams 
as  the  Nile,  the  Euphrates,  the  Indus,  the  Rhine,  the  Danube, 
the  St.  Lawrence,  or  the  Mississippi  to  acknowledge  the  meas- 
ure of  their  power  in  shaping  the  course  of  wars  and  political 
relations  and,  consequently,  the  destinies  of  nations. 

It  is  obvious  that  in  a  populous  country  a  great  river  must 
modify  the  existence  of  the  peoples  living  adjacent  to  its  banks, 
if  only  by  reason  of  its  volume,  which  renders  it  a  military 
obstacle  in  war,  a  vehicle  of  commerce  in  peace,  and  a  natural 
boundary  of  political  significance  at  all  times.  But  it  is  not 
always  the  great  watercourses  which  play  leading  roles  in  the 
march  of  events.  The  Metaurus,  in  Umbria,  is  little  more 
than  a  brook ;  the  Nebel,  at  Blenheim,  is  a  mere  marshy  rivulet. 
Yet  by  his  failure  to  make  good  his  retirement  across  the 
Metaurus,  Hasdrubel  suffered  defeat  in  the  battle  which  lost 
the  supremacy  of  the  world  to  Carthage  and  gave  it  to  Rome, 
while,  centuries  later,  by  forcing  his  passage  of  the  Nebel, 

I 


2  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

Marlborough  put  a  period  to  the  victorious  career  of  the  armies 
of  the  France  of  Louis  the  Magnificent. 

In  a  similar  sense,  but  in  a  far  greater  degree,  it  is  a  river, 
small  by  comparison  with  hundreds  of  other  watercourses, 
which  through  centuries  has  been  involved  in  such  momentous 
and  decisive  events,  affecting  the  whole  course  of  Western 
civilization,  that  it  has  come  to  seem  an  instrument  of  Divine 
Providence  and  has  acquired  a  fame  transcending  that  of  any 
other  stream  in  the  world.  That  river  is  the  Marne.  It  is  the 
purpose  of  the  present  writer  to  tell  as  much  of  the  picturesque 
beauties,  the  moving  romance,  and  the  soul-stirring  history  of 
this  placid  little  stream,  wandering  among  its  green-carpeted 
hills,  its  nestled  villages,  and  its  poplar-shaded  valleys,  as  can 
be  compressed  within  the  limits  of  a  single  volume  —  a  delicate 
task,  because  an  adequate  narrative  of  it  could  hardly  be  de- 
tailed in  a  dozen.  The  river  upon  whose  selfsame  banks  the 
chains  of  Asiatic  conquest  in  western  Europe  have  been  broken 
and  the  chains  of  affection  and  mutual  esteem  between  western 
Europe  and  America  have  been  forged ;  upon  whose  selfsame 
hills  flashed,  two  thousand  years  ago,  the  spears  of  the  Roman 
legions  and,  in  19 18,  the  rifles  of  the  French  poilu  and  the 
Yankee  doughboy,  is  not  one  whose  story  can  be  narrated  in 
a  few  paragraphs.  But  how  closely  its  creeping  waters  have 
woven  together  the  past  and  the  present  may,  perhaps,  be  sug- 
gested, however  imperfectly,  in  the  following  pages. 

Physically  considered,  the  Marne  is  a  stream  about  525 
kilometers,  or  328  miles,  in  length  and  it  drains  a  watershed 
of  4,894  square  miles.  Its  source  is  on  the  eastern  slope  of 
the  plateau  of  Langres,  about  four  miles  south  of  the  city  of 
that  name,  in  the  Department  of  the  Haute-Marne.  Rising 
at  an  elevation  of  381  meters  (1250  feet)  above  sea  level, 
it  runs  in  a  northerly  course  through  the  Department  of  the 


A  River  of  History 


Haute-Marne,  turns  west  near  St.  Dizier  and  crosses  the  De- 
partment of  the  Marne,  receiving  the  waters  of  the  Blaise 
River  between  St.  Dizier  and  Vitry-le-Frangois.  Just  before 
reaching  Vitry,  where  the  Saulx  River  empties  into  it,  it  turns 
northwest,  passes  Chalons,  and  resumes  a  westerly  course 
which  it  continues  past  Epernay,  turning  then  somewhat  south- 
west as  it  traverses  a  corner  of  the  Department  of  the  Aisne 
past  Chateau-Thierry.  Continuing  across  the  Department  of 
Seine-et-Marne,  in  which  it  passes  Meaux  and  receives  the 
tributary  waters  of  the  Petit  Morin,  the  Ourcq,  and  the  Grand 
Morin,  it  crosses  the  Department  of  Seine-et-Oise  and  finally 
enters  the  Department  of  the  Seine,  within  which  it  discharges 
into  the  River  Seine  at  Charenton,  a  suburb  of  Paris. 

In  its  course  the  Marne  traverses  a  country  much  diver- 
sified in  character,  as  will  hereafter  be  shown.  But  neither  in 
length  nor  in  the  extent  of  its  watershed  is  it  at  all  imposing 
as  a  river.  The  Rhone,  the  largest  river  lying  exclusively 
within  France,  is  505  miles  long  and  has  a  basin  of  37,798 
square  miles;  the  Rhine  has  a  length  of  805  miles  with  a  drain- 
age area  of  75,cx)o  square  miles,  while  the  Hudson,  a  few  miles 
shorter  than  the  Marne,  yet  carries  off  the  rainfall  of  a  dis- 
trict nearly  three  times  as  large.  Compared  to  the  gigantic 
Missouri-Mississippi,  with  its  4,221  miles  of  channel  and  its 
watershed  nearly  as  great  as  all  western  Europe  exclusive  of 
Germany  and  Austria,  the  Marne  is  a  brook.  Yet  its  signifi- 
cance in  history  has  been  infinitely  greater  than  the  combined 
influence  of  all  the  other  rivers  mentioned.  That  such  is  the 
case  does  not  appear  to  have  been  merely  the  result  of  accident. 

A  glance  at  the  map  of  Europe  shows,  standing  between 
Italy,  they  project  a  nobstructing  rampart  as  far  as  the  Medi- 
and  the  conglomerate  which  was  recently  Austria  on  the  east, 
the  huge  bulk  of  the  Alps.    To  the  south,  between  France  and 


4  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

Italy,  they  project  an  obstructing  rampart  as  far  as  the  Medi- 
terranean, to  the  east  they  diminish  but  gradually  in  the  Tyrols. 
To  the  northwest  the  Jura  lies  like  a  curving  outwork  between 
the  valley  of  the  Rhine  and  those  of  the  Doubs  and  the  Saone, 
which  are  virtually  extended  parts  of  the  valley  of  the  Rhone. 
Still  farther  beyond  the  valley  of  the  Doubs-Saone  lies,  west 
of  the  Rhine,  the  mass  of  the  Vosges  Mountains  and,  extending 
southwest  from  them  in  a  curve  beyond  that  of  the  Jura,  more 
sweeping  but  less  elevated,  are  the  Monts  Faucilles,  west  of 
Epinal,  the  plateau  of  Langres,  the  Cote-d'Or,  southwest  of 
Dijon,  and  other  plateaus  reaching  southwest  through  Bour- 
gogne  and  Lyonnais. 

Around  the  massive  redoubt  of  nature  formed  by  the 
Alps  and  the  Jura,  through  the  lowlands  of  the  Doubs  Valley 
which  make,  at  Belfort,  a  pass  to  the  valley  of  the  Rhine, 
is  one  of  the  regions  where  the  waves  of  warfare  between 
central  and  western  Europe  have  washed  most  persistently. 
Sometimes  its  lower,  outstanding  spurs  have  been  overrun, 
more  rarely  its  very  fastnesses  have  been  painfully  pene- 
trated but,  in  the  main,  the  feet  of  contending  armies  have 
swept  past  its  base  on  every  side.  Caesar  rested  his  right 
flank  in  security  upon  it  when  he  went  to  the  conquest  of 
northern  Gaul  and,  clearing  a  base  line  on  the  valley  of  the 
Rhone,  struck  out  toward  the  English  Channel.  Along  its 
northern  slopes  and  over  the  broad,  open  countries  beyond, 
the  successive  waves  of  barbarian  invaders  from  the  east 
have  always  thrown  themselves  forward  upon  France.  Swing- 
ing around  this  buttress,  the  Romans  met,  upon  the  banks 
of  the  Rhine,  those  Germanic  hordes  which  all  their  power 
could  never  crush  and  which  finally  overcame  Rome  itself. 
Moving  along  its  northern  base  through  the  Pass  of  Belfort, 
across  the  Rhine  and  into  the  valley  of  the  Danube,  Napoleon 


A  River  of  History 


led  his  armies  when,  periodically,  he  found  it  expedient  to 
flank  invaders  out  of  Italy  or  otherwise  to  humble  the  nations 
to  the  east.  Indeed,  for  centuries  before  Napoleon's  time 
armies  operating  in  both  directions  had  utilized  that  pass  in 
their  advances  or  retreats  because  it  offered  the  only  available 
road  for  avoiding  the  Alps  on  the  south  and  the  Vosges  on 
the  north. 

Again,  north  of  the  Vosges  which  stand  to  block  invasion 
of  France  like  a  rock  in  a  harbor  mouth,  come  open  grounds 
which,  falling  away  gradually  to  the  coastal  plains  of  Fland- 
ers, have  always  been  a  fairway  for  invading  armies  in  either 
direction.  The  Rhine,  springing  from  the  Alps,  is  and  ever 
has  been  the  natural  dividing  line  between  central  Europe 
and  France.  But  neither  France  nor  Gaul  before  her  nor  Rome 
could  always  stop  invasion  on  that  line  when  it  came  in  par- 
ticularly heavy  force. 

The  World  War  has  demonstrated  that  distribution  in 
depth  is  the  best  defense  and  that  the  true  battle  position  lies 
far  enough  behind  the  front  line  to  permit  of  the  latter  taking 
up  the  first  shock  of  the  enemy's  attack  and  forcing  him  to 
come  before  the  main  positions  with  his  initial  momentum 
expended.  In  former  days  the  theory  may  not  have  been 
clearly  understood,  but  the  course  of  events  frequently  forced 
the  conclusion.  It  seems,  therefore,  a  fair  hypothesis  of  the 
importance  of  the  Marne  in  history  to  state  that  its  deep-cut 
valley,  curving  northwestward  and  westward  from  the  pla- 
teau of  Langres,  75  miles  within  the  Pass  of  Belfort,  to  Paris, 
lies  at  such  a  distance  from  the  Rhine  as  to  constitute  it  the 
natural  battle  position  against  particularly  strong  attacks  from 
the  east.  Whether  or  not  the  hypothesis  will  bear  analyzing, 
the  fact  remains  that  at  several  of  the  most  critical  junctures 
in  the  near  and  distant  past,  the  Marne  has  proved  the  stum- 


The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 


bling-block  over  which  aggressors  from  the  East  have  fallen. 
Under  what  circumstances  they  have  fallen,  through  what 
vicissitudes  the  people  of  the  valley  have  passed  during  the 
centuries,  and  what  is  the  appearance  and  the  nature  of  this 
lovely  river  which  is  a  vein  of  the  fair  flesh  of  France,  we 
may  now  consider. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   CRADLE   OF   THE   MARNE 

GOING  down  the  wide,  white  Roman  road  which,  clear- 
ing the  frowning  gateway  and  the  drawbridge  of  the 
Langres  Citadel,  stretches  away  southward  across  the  airy 
uplands  of  the  plateau,  one  is  struck  by  three  outstanding 
features  of  his  surroundings,  the  perennial  loveliness  of  the 
countryside,  the  breathing  presence  of  antiquity  and,  on  every 
hand,  the  evidences  of  military  construction  and  occupation. 
The  ancient  Roman  highway,  but  one  of  many  converging 
upon  the  fortress  hill  of  Langres,  lies  along  the  plateau  like 
a  ribbon  through  the  grain  fields,  which  fall  away  abruptly 
on  the  east  into  the  broad  valley  of  the  Marne  and  more 
gradually  on  the  west  to  the  patches  of  woodland  which  flank 
the  road  to  Dijon.  Behind  one,  St.  Mammes  Cathedral, 
eight  hundred  years  old,  rears  its  square,  gray  towers  above 
the  ramparts  of  Langres  and  it  needs  no  practiced  eye  to  dis- 
cern that  the  masonry  which  stands,  half  revealed,  on  many 
of  the  surrounding  hills,  flat-topped  and  abrupt  as  Montana 
buttes,  are  parts  of  the  massive  forts,  now  superannuated, 
which  formerly  made  of  Langres  one  of  the  chief  strongholds 
of  France  as,  indeed,  in  a  strategic  sense  it  still  is. 

These  first  impressions  of  natural  beauty,  antiquity,  and 
martial  strength,  which  are  characteristic  of  the  Marne 
throughout  its  length,  are  particularly  noticeable  as  one  ap- 
proaches the  covert  glen  wherein  the  river  keeps  its  shyly 
hidden  source,  which  the  Roman  road  passes  at  a  distance  of 
a  few  hundred  yards.  Just  before  reaching  it  one  skirts 
directly  one  of  the  old  strongholds.  Fort  de  la  Marnotte, 
standing  like  a  very  guardian  over  the  cradle  of  the  stream, 

7 

2— Oct.  22.  ' 


8  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 


half  hidden  in  the  bushes  which  have  grown  up  around  it. 
Its  angled  walls  stare  dumbly  across  the  deep  moat  and  the 
poppied  pasture  grounds  encompassing  it  to  the  river  valley 
and  the  blue  hills  beyond.  The  fort  bears  ample  evidence 
that  it  has  suffered  its  share  in  the  late  war  as  an  object  of 
experiments  in  the  busy  training  areas  that  centered  at  Lan- 
gres,  for  the  bottom  of  the  moat  and  the  lip  of  the  glacis  are 
netted  with  rusty  barbed-wire  entanglements,  while  here  and 
there  gaping  holes  in  the  ground  or  the  masonry  show  where 
the  shells  of  practicing  artillery  have  burst.  Perhaps  at  Fort 
de  la  Marnotte  some  of  the  gunners,  American  and  French, 
learned  the  accuracy  which  later  on  and  farther  down  the 
river  helped  to  send  the  Germans  reeling  back  from  the  region 
of  Chateau-Thierry  across  the  hills  of  Orxois. 

Turning  down  a  little  byroad  which  follows  through  the 
bushes  a  shallow  depression  on  whose  sunny  side  lies  a  long, 
narrow  strip  of  well-tilled  field,  one  comes  in  a  moment  to 
the  edge  of  the  plateau,  dropping  off  so  sharply  to  the  valley 
that  the  tree  tops  from  below  wave  almost  against  one's  feet. 
A  path  winds  steeply  down  between  shoulders  of  stone  to  a 
shady  little  glen  half  surrounded  by  the  gray,  overhanging 
rocks  and  here,  from  a  tangle  of  vines  and  shrubs,  issues  the 
trickle  of  crystal  water  which  is  the  infant  Marne. 

With  the  delicate  sentiment  characteristic  of  the  French 
in  such  matters,  the  government  of  the  Department  of  the 
Haute-Marne  has,  in  1877,  protected  from  pollution  the  spring 
of  the  historic  river  by  enclosing  it  in  a  stone  vault  with  a 
little  opening  in  front  whence  the  tiny  stream  dances  away 
among  the  pebbles  down  the  valley.  Behind  the  source  a  gray 
shoulder  of  cliff  towers  up,  embowered  in  tree  branches  and 
beside  it  a  tiny  vineyard,  hardly  five  meters  square,  takes  the 
sunshine  of  the  summer  afternoons. 


The  Cradle  of  the  Marne  9 

Only  a  few  steps  away,  in  the  other  face  of  the  curving 
wall  of  rock  is  the  spot  which  is,  after  the  source  itself,  the 
chief  point  of  interest  hereabout  and  the  one  which  renders 
the  Marne,  at  its  very  birth,  a  creature  of  romance.  It  is  the 
Grotto  of  Sabinus,  a  cave  in  the  rock  having  two  entrances, 
the  one  looking  south,  the  other  east.  The  interior  is  very 
irregular  in  outline  but  it  is  perhaps  fifty  feet  deep,  twenty 
feet  wide,  and  seven  feet  high.  Near  the  east  entrance  is  a 
rough  pillar,  left  evidently  by  the  cutting  away  of  the  sur- 
rounding stone. 

The  story,  one  of  the  most  romantic  in  all  history,  goes 
that  in  the  year  71,  a.  d.,  which  was  during  the  reign  of  Ves- 
pasian as  emperor  of  Rome,  Julius  Sabinus,  chief  of  the  Lin- 
gones,  a  Gallic  tribe  whose  capital  was  Langres,  or  Andema- 
tunum  as  it  was  then  called,  with  other  Gallic  chiefs  revolted 
against  the  authority  of  Rome.  Through  his  grandmother, 
who  had  been  a  very  beautiful  Gallic  maiden  in  the  favor  of 
Julius  Caesar,  Sabinus  claimed  to  be  the  grandson  of  the  con- 
queror. Young,  wealthy,  handsome,  and  with  all  the  ambi- 
tion of  his  great  ancestor,  he  conspired  with  other  discon- 
tented leaders  to  create  rebellion  among  the  Roman  legions 
on  the  Rhine,  he  himself  aspiring  to  become  emperor  in 
Vespasian's  stead. 

Fired  with  this  mad  scheme,  he  returned  to  Langres, 
stirred  up  his  countrymen  by  his  eloquence  to  raise  a  half- 
armed  and  undisciplined  army  of  nearly  70,000  men  and  led 
it  headlong  southward  toward  Besangon,  destroying  towns 
and  laying  waste  the  country  on  the  way.  Soon,  however, 
his  motley  host  began  to  meet  with  reverses.  Fearing  to  be 
enveloped  by  the  legions  of  the  Roman  general,  Cerealis,  who 
was  marching  from  Italy  to  the  German  frontier,  Sabinus 
abandoned  his  army  and  fled  to  his  country  house  at  Giselles, 


10  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

near  Laignes  and  immediately  thereafter,  with  only  two 
faithful  freedmen  as  companions,  to  the  cave  at  the  source 
of  the  Marne,  then  deeply  hidden  among  the  primeval  forests. 
From  here  he  caused  one  of  his  servants  to  go  to  his  wife, 
Eponina,  and  inform  her  that  he  had  killed  himself. 

Eponina,  who  was  famed  through  the  country  as  well  for 
her  virtues  as  for  her  beauty,  on  receiving  this  news  was  so 
overcome  by  grief  that  she  wept  without  ceasing  for  three 
days  and  nights,  neither  sleeping  nor  eating  during  that  time. 
Sabinus  was  informed  of  this  by  his  servant,  and  fearing  that 
his  wife  would  die  of  grief,  he  sent  word  to  her  that  he  still 
lived  and  informed  her  of  his  hiding  place.  Thereafter  for 
seven  months  Eponina  visited  him  almost  nightly  at  the 
grotto,  returning  to  her  home  before  morning  and  so  cleverly 
continuing  her  role  of  the  sorrowing  widow  that  no  one  sus- 
pected that  her  husband  was  still  living. 

In  the  meantime,  the  other  leaders  of  the  rebellion,  less 
timorous  than  Sabinus,  whose  greatest  virtue  seems  to  have 
been  his  deep  devotion  to  a  wife  who  far  outshone  him  in 
every  other  worthy  element  of  character,  had  kept  their  army 
together,  returned  to  Treves  and  near  that  city  delivered  bat- 
tle to  the  legions  of  Cerealis.  The  latter  defeated  them 
utterly,  the  rebellion  was  crushed,  and  Langres  gave  its  sub- 
mission to  Rome.  Shortly  after,  Sabinus,  hoping  to  obtain 
pardon  for  his  share  in  the  revolt,  made  a  secret  journey  to 
Rome  with  the  intention  of  throwing  himself  upon  the  mercy 
of  Vespasian.  He  soon  learned,  however,  that  there  was  little 
prospect  of  his  receiving  clemency  and,  fearing  to  be  appre- 
hended and  executed,  he  fled  again  to  his  cave  by  the  Marne. 

Now  ensued  nine  long  years  during  which  Sabinus 
remained  there,  his  faithful  wife  being  with  him  most  of  the 
time,  but  sallying  forth  at  intervals  to  obtain  news  of  condi- 


The  valley  of  the  Marne  from  the  base  of  the  ramparts,  Langres 

[Page  5] 


Grotto  of  Sabinus  bv  the  source  of  the  Marne 


[Page  9] 


The  Cradle  of  the  Marne  il 

tions  at  Rome  and  to  learn  whether  prospects  were  any 
brighter  for  the  pardon  of  her  husband.  While  they  were 
existing  thus,  Eponina  gave  birth  to  twins,  whom  she  reared, 
to  paraphrase  the  poetical  words  of  one  French  historian,  as 
a  lioness  rears  her  whelps,  hidden  from  the  light  of  day  and 
nursed  in  the  entrails  of  the  earth.  At  the  end  of  the  nine 
years  by  some  unlucky  accident  the  Romans  discovered  the 
hiding  place  of  Sabinus  and  his  family.  They  were  surprised 
in  the  cave  and  taken  prisoners.  Eponina  and  her  children 
would  have  been  left  in  Gaul  by  the  Romans  and,  indeed, 
Sabinus  himself  seems  to  have  mustered  the  courage  to  beseech 
his  wife  to  remain  behind.  But  her  devotion  would  not  per- 
mit it;  with  her  children  she  accompanied  her  husband  to 
Rome.  When  they  were  brought  into  the  presence  of  Ves- 
pasian, Eponina  threw  herself  at  his  feet  and  weeping  plead 
for  her  husband's  life.  "  These,"  said  she,  holding  her  chil- 
dren up  before  the  emperor,  "are  the  fruits  of  my  exile.  I 
have  nourished  them  in  a  cave  in  order  that  we  might  be 
more  numerous  to  bring  to  you  our  supplications." 

Her  eloquence  moved  even  Vespasian  to  tears,  but  he  was 
inexorable  regarding  the  fate  of  Sabinus;  the  would-be 
usurper  must  be  executed.  At  last  Eponina,  seeing  that 
pleadings  were  in  vain,  arose  and  with  dignity  demanded 
that  she  be  permitted  to  die  with  Sabinus.  "Grant  me  this 
grace,  Vespasian,"  said  she,  "  for  thy  aspect  and  thy  laws 
weigh  upon  me  a  thousand  times  more  heavily  than  life  in 
darkness  and  under  the  earth." 

Her  biting  scorn  stung  the  emperor  to  grant  her  request; 
with  Sabinus  she  and  her  infants  were  led  to  death.  It  has 
been  well  said  that  it  was  because  of  the  devotion  of  his  wife 
that  Sabinus'  name  has  been  preserved  among  those  of  heroes. 
But  the  name  of  the  superb  Gallic  matron  has  also  lived  down 


12  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

the  ages  and  will  live  as  the  worthy  prototype  of  that  galaxy 
of  heroines  which,  led  by  Jeanne  d'Arc,  has  given  to  the 
womanhood  of  France  such  a  glorious  place  in  history. 

To  return  to  the  center  of  interest  of  this  romance  of  the 
long-dead  past,  the  grotto  by  the  source  of  the  Marne,  one 
finds  on  walking  a  few  feet  from  its  entrance  along  the  path 
skirting  the  foot  of  the  cliff,  a  shrine  chiseled  in  the  face  of 
the  rock  containing,  behind  an  iron  grating,  a  small  figure  of 
the  Virgin.  Both  here  and  within  Sabinus'  cave  the  smooth 
face  of  the  stone  bears  what  seems  from  a  casual  inspection 
a  fairly  complete  penciled  roster  of  the  American  Expedi- 
tionary Forces  and  also  of  the  mobilized  army  of  France.  As 
often  happens  in  this  form  of  publicity,  however,  it  was  an 
American  who  achieved  the  crowning  triumph  by  getting  his 
pencil  in  some  way  far  enough  between  the  bars  of  the  grating 
to  inscribe  "  Don  Morrison,  Lawrence,  Kansas,"  upon  the; 
pedestal  supporting  the  Virgin.  Scattered  here  and  there 
under  the  trees  empty  "corned  willie"  or  "gold  fish"  cans 
testify  to  the  popularity  of  the  spot  as  a  place  of  relaxation 
when  the  Army  Schools  at  Langres  were  overflowing  with 
American  soldier  students. 

From  the  long,  low  entrance  to  the  Grotto  of  Sabinus  the 
view  extends  southeast  and  east  down  gentle  slopes  of  grain 
and  pasture,  interspersed  with  clumps  of  trees  and  an  occa- 
sional solitary  oak,  across  the  closely  embowered  buildings  of 
the  farm  de  la  Marnotte  and  the  red  roofs  and  church  tower 
of  Balesmes  to  the  orderly  rows  of  poplars  which,  in  the  far 
distance,  trace  the  highroads  to  Corlee  and  St.  Vallier.  Fol- 
lowing down  the  hillside  to  the  farm  de  la  Marnotte,  the 
first  habitation  along  the  thickly  peopled  Marne,  one  may 
learn  not  without  interest  that  in  its  fields,  thickly  starred 
with  flaming  poppies  and  the  blue  of  cornflowers,  have  been 


The  Cradle  of  the  Marne  13 

unearthed  within  modern  times  Roman  baths,  the  foundations 
of  Roman  buildings,  and  many  coins  of  the  same  epoch. 

Pursuing  still  the  same  descending  road,  one  comes  pres- 
ently past  stone  walls  and  hedges  into  the  rambling  street  of 
Balesmes,  the  first  village  on  the  Marne.  Between  the  scat- 
tered houses  of  the  hamlet  and  the  apple  trees  bending  over  the 
walls  and  now  and  then  beneath  tiny  bridges,  the  infant  stream 
murmurs  over  the  rocks,  sometimes  almost  losing  itself  under 
the  overhanging  branches  of  rose  bushes,  heavy  with  bloom, 
or  swaying  tufts  of  water  grass.  Here  and  there  a  few  step- 
ping-stones across  it  are  sufficient  means  of  communication 
for  the  dwellers  in  neighboring  houses,  for  it  is  scarcely  six 
feet  wide  or  more  than  five  or  six  inches  deep.  Nevertheless 
in  Balesmes  the  Marne  receives  its  first  tributary,  another 
brooklet  of  about  its  own  volume.  The  village  church  lifting 
its  square  Romanesque  tower  upon  a  little  knoll  in  the  center 
of  the  town  has  in  its  flagged  floor,  tombstones  dating  from 
1619,  for  Balesmes,  like  nearly  every  French  hamlet,  has  its 
bit  of  history.  Along  the  Marne  lies  an  old  mill  built  on  the 
site  of  an  ancient  hospital  which  was  founded  there  in  11 80 
by  the  Brothers  Hospitallers  of  the  Order  of  St.  John  and 
which  passed  in  1250  to  the  Order  of  Malta,  while  near  the 
church  was  formerly  a  fortified  stronghold  belonging  to  the 
Priory  of  St.  Geosmes. 

This  St.  Geosmes,  or  Sancti  Gemini,  though  some  kilome- 
ters back  from  the  Marne,  was  such  an  important  factor  in  the 
early  history  of  this  region  that  it  deserves  a  brief  description. 
The  hamlet  of  this  name  lies  just  west  of  Fort  de  la  Marnotte 
on  the  Langres-Dijon  road,  at  the  junction  of  two  of  the 
ancient  Roman  highways.  Tradition  says  that  it  was  the 
scene  in  the  second  century,  a.  d.,  of  the  martyrdom  of  three 
Christians  who  were  triplet  brothers:    Speusippi,  Meleusippi, 


14  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

and  Eleusippi.  By  all  the  logic  of  euphony  they  should  have 
hailed  from  Mississippi  but  the  record  is  clear  that  they  were 
born  in  Langres.  They  had  been  converted  from  paganism 
by  St.  Benigne  and  were  the  first  Christians  in  this  region  to 
suffer  martyrdom  by  fire.  Later  they  were  canonized  under 
the  name  of  the  Saints  Jumeaux,  meaning  twins,  whence  the 
modernized  St.  Geosmes.  In  honor  of  the  martyrs  there  was 
established  here  an  abbey  which  became  very  rich,  the  prior 
of  it  being  lord  of  seven  neighboring  parishes.  In  this  church 
in  859  was  held  an  ecclesiastical  council  in  the  presence  of 
Charles  i,  the  Bald,  and  in  it  St.  Geofrid,  Abbot  of  Wirem- 
theuse,  in  Ireland,  was  buried  in  1716  after  his  death  at 
Langres  as  he  was  returning  from  a  journey  to  Rome. 

Because  the  tire  of  an  automobile  on  the  way  to  the 
American  Tank  Center  at  Bourg,  a  few  kilometers  farther 
down  the  road,  gave  out  at  precisely  this  point  one  day  in 
the  summer  of  19 18,  the  writer  had  a  chance  to  enter  St. 
Geosmes  Church  under  interesting  circumstances.  At  that 
time  the  church  was  in  use  as  a  hospital  for  wounded  men  of 
some  of  the  French  colonial  units  from  North  Africa  and  the 
nave  and  transepts  were  full  of  cots  on  which  were  lying 
these  coal-black  soldiers,  attended  by  a  few  French  poilus. 
The  interior,  dark  with  age,  shows  a  construction  seen  only 
in  some  of  the  most  ancient  churches  antedating  the  eleventh 
century,  the  side  walls  sloping  outward  very  perceptibly  from 
floor  to  ceiling,  producing  a  curious  appearance  as  if  the  roof 
were  collapsing.  One  of  the  French  soldiers,  anxious  to  dis- 
play all  there  was  to  be  seen,  produced  a  candle,  unlocked 
and  lifted  a  ponderous  trapdoor  in  the  floor  and  led  the 
way  down  a  long  flight  of  clammy  stone  steps  to  a  Roman 
crypt  beneath  the  church  containing  some  massive  and  hand- 
somely carved   pillars   and   several   stone   sarcophagi   whose 


The  Cradle  of  the  Marne  15 

frigid  aspect  made  a  shell  hole  seem  an  acceptable  place  of 
interment  by  contrast.  Only  a  small  portion  of  the  Roman 
crypt  remains  accessible,  the  rest  of  it  having  been  filled  up 
with  rocks  during  the  French  Revolution — a  curiously  labo- 
rious method,  it  would  seem,  of  showing  contempt  for  re- 
ligious things. 

If  one  goes  out  of  Balesmes  on  the  poplar-shaded  road 
running  northeast  and  then  turns  northwest  by  the  crossroad 
toward  Corlee  and  Langres,  he  crosses  just  short  of  Corlee 
the  deep  cut  of  the  Marne  and  Saone  Canal  and  looking  along 
it,  sees  at  a  distance  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  the  entrance  to 
the  tunnel  through  which  it  runs,  for  more  than  5  kilometers, 
beneath  the  heights  of  the  Langres  Plateau  to  issue  finally  at 
its  southern  end  in  the  head  of  the  valley  of  the  Vingeanne 
River  which  it  then  follows  to  the  Saone.  The  canal  tunnel 
passes  directly  beneath  Balesmes  where  occurs,  therefore,  the 
curious  phenomenon  of  the  Marne,  whose  impounded  floods 
farther  down  stream  furnish  water  for  the  canal,  flowing  in 
its  natural  bed  above  the  latter.  Through  the  tunnel  water 
communication  is  maintained  between  streams  emptying 
respectively  into  the  English  Channel  and  the  North  Sea  on 
the  one  side  and  into  the  Mediterranean  on  the  other,  for  the 
Marne,  the  Meuse,  and  the  Saone  all  have  their  sources  near 
together  in  the  highlands  of  the  Department  of  the  Haute- 
Marne  and  all  are  connected  by  canals. 

The  square  church  tower  of  Corlee,  rising  on  the  hill 
slope  just  beyond  the  canal  as  if  guarding,  like  a  shepherd  his 
flock,  the  clustered  red  roofs  of  the  village  in  the  hollow  below^ 
lies  just  short  of  a  slight  crest  from  which  suddenly,  across 
the  grain  fields  and  meadows,  Langres  again  appears,  its 
cathedral  and  fortress  walls  sharply  silhouetted  against  the 
northwestern   sky.      From   whatever  standpoint   viewed   and 


l6  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

whether  scenically  or  historically,  Langres,  at  whose  feet 
the  Marne  comes  into  being,  is  not  and  never  has  been  incon- 
spicuous. Leaving  the  trickling  river  and  the  much  more 
pretentious  canal  in  the  valley,  the  road  climbs  up  the  hillside 
through  the  Faubourg  des  Anges,  passes  beneath  one  of  the 
double  archways  of  the  Porte  des  Moulins  and  entering  the 
narrow  thoroughfare  of  the  Rue  Diderot  between  solid  masses 
of  antique  houses,  leads  into  the  heart  of  the  town  whose  birth 
no  chronicle  records  because  that  event  is  shrouded  in  the 
twilight  of  prehistoric  Gaul. 


CHAPTER    III 

LANGRES   THE   ANCIENT 

SOMEONE  once  ventured  a  guess  at  the  age  of  Langres. 
It  was  probably  as  good  a  guess  as  any  other  investi- 
gator can  offer.  The  Abbe  Mangin,  who  flourished  about 
1765  as  grand  vicar  of  the  Diocese  of  Langres,  remarked  in 
one  of  his  learned  works  that  "one  is  led  to  believe  that  it 
was  perhaps  built  a  little  time  after  the  Deluge  and  after  the 
rash  enterprise  of  the  Tower  of  Babel  had  miscarried." 
Others  have  ascribed  its  foundation  to  one  Longo,  King  of 
the  Celts  about  1800  b.  c.  At  all  events,  Langres  is  un- 
doubtedly of  Celtic  origin  and  of  a  very  early  date  as  has 
been  proven  by  the  numerous  objects  such  as  statues,  vases, 
urns,  tombs,  and  building  foundations  which  have  been  ex- 
cavated there.  It  is  said,  moreover,  that  excavations  have 
disclosed  the  fact  that  the  hill  on  which  the  city  stands,  1,550 
feet  above  sea  level,  is  many  feet  higher  than  it  originally 
was  owing  to  the  building  of  town  after  town  upon  the  ruins 
of  its  predecessors  as  these  came  to  destruction  in  the  almost 
unnumbered  wars  of  the  passing  centuries. 

A  contingent  of  Lingones,  the  Gallic  tribe  inhabiting  the 
country  of  which  Andematunum,  later  Langres,  was  the  capi- 
tal and  the  metropolis,  accompanied  the  expedition  of  the 
Bellovici  which  crossed  the  Alps  and  descended  upon  the 
plains  of  northern  Italy  in  615  b.  c,  in  the  time  of  Tarquin 
the  Elder.  Other  Lingones  penetrated  the  Iberian  Peninsula 
and  settled  in  the  most  fertile  parts  of  what  is  now  Spain. 

In  58  B.  c,  the  year  in  which  Julius  Caesar  moved  into 
Transalpine  Gaul,  turned  the  Helvetii  back  into  Switzerland 
at  the  passes  of  the  Rhone  and  Bibracte  (Autun),  and  defeated 

17 


l8  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

the  invading  Germans  tinder  Ariovistus  in  the  GaUic  plain  of 
Alsace  and  drove  them  before  him  across  the  Rhine,  he  found 
the  Lingones  robust  warriors  and  their  hilltop  city,  as  it  always 
has  been,  a  stronghold  worth  controlling.  He  sought  and 
obtained  alliance  with  them  so  that  this  warlike  tribe,  curi- 
ously enough,  at  the  most  important  juncture  of  its  history 
became  peaceably  subject  to  Rome  without  the  bloody  subju- 
gation on  the  battle  field  which  was  the  fate  of  most  of  the 
Gallic  tribes.  Caesar  did  the  Lingones  many  favors  during 
the  years  of  his  Gallic  wars,  frequently  staying  in  their  coun- 
try himself  and  making  there  the  winter  quarters  of  the 
legions.  They,  in  turn,  furnished  him  with  an  excellent  and 
numerous  cavalry  which  he  employed  not  only  in  Gaul  but 
later  in  the  civil  war  with  Pompey  and  in  his  conquests  of 
Italy  and  Spain. 

The  great  Roman  master  of  strategy  made  of  Langres 
itself  a  stronghold  and  the  center  of  a  system  of  strongholds 
of  which  he  saw  the  full  advantages.  Holding  this  point, 
as  he  himself  proved  a  little  later,  he  would  be  in  a  position 
to  quell  any  revolt  in  case  conquered  Gaul  should  rise  against 
him,  while  it  was,  moreover,  an  excellently  placed  base  for 
operations  against  the  Germans  on  and  beyond  the  Rhine. 
The  hilltop  of  Langres  he  entirely  surrounded  with  a  strong 
wall,  having  a  wide  and  deep  ditch  and  high  towers  at  fre- 
quent intervals.  The  outlying  stations,  oppidums  or 
intrenched  camps,  generally  capable  of  being  used  as  winter 
cantonments  for  troops,  were  most  often  situated  at  the  junc- 
tions of  two  or  more  roads  but  always  in  positions  so  tacti- 
cally defensible  that  even  the  later  leaders  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  comparatively  ignorant  of  military  art,  could  see  their 
advantages  and  built  their  feudal  castles  on,  or  near,  the 
ruins  of  the  Roman  works. 


Langres  the  Ancient  19 

Under  Julius  Caesar,  or  his  successors,  was  laid  out  the 
system  of  Roman  roads,  the  greatest  in  all  Gaul,  which 
radiated  in  every  direction  from  Langres,  twelve  of  them  in 
all  binding  the  country  together  in  a  military  sense  and  fur- 
nishing convenient  communications.  So  substantially  were 
they  built  that  many  of  them  today  are  still  in  use.  Striking 
nearly  always  straight  across  the  country,  images,  as  has  been 
expressively  said,  of  the  inflexible  Roman  will  which  went 
straight  to  its  object  regardless  of  obstacles,  from  Langres 
these  roads  reached,  the  first  to  Toul,  Metz,  and  Treves,  the 
second  to  Naix-aux-Forges,  near  Bar-le-Duc,  and  thence  to 
Reims,  and  Treves,  the  third  to  the  Rhine  by  Avricourt  and 
La  Marche,  the  fourth  to  the  valley  of  the  jMouzon,  the  fifth 
to  Bourbonne,  the  sixth  to  the  Rhine  by  way  of  Basle,  the 
seventh  to  Besangon,  the  eighth  to  Lyon  by  the  existing  road 
to  Dijon,  the  ninth  to  Alessia  and  Autun,  the  tenth  to  Sens, 
the  eleventh  to  Reims  by  Bricon  and  the  twelfth  to  the  valley 
of  the  Blaise  by  Faverolles  and  Marnay. 

These  roads  and  many  other  public  works  in  Langres  and 
vicinity  were  built  largely  by  the  legions  of  Julius  Caesar  at 
times  when  they  were  in  rest  between  actual  campaigns,  the 
practice  of  "manicuring  the  roads"  with  "resting"  troops 
evidently  being  as  popular  then  as  it  was  two  thousand  years 
later.  Caesar's  generosity  with  fatigue  details  was  especially 
the  result  of  his  gratitude  to  the  Lingones  for  their  neu- 
trality during  the  formidable  revolt  of  the  Gauls  led  by  Ver- 
cingetorix,  in  52  b.  c.  This  uprising  burst  forth  as  the 
result  of  a  great  Gallic  council  held  at  Autun.  Caesar  and  his 
army  at  the  time  were  at  Sens.  Vercingetorix,  with  forces 
much  superior  in  point  of  numbers,  moved  northeast  from 
Autun  by  Dijon  in  the  direction  of  Langres  with  the  object 
of  cutting  the  Roman  line  of  retreat  upon  the  Rhone  and 


20  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

Italy.  He  accomplished  this  object,  but  Caesar,  after  pre- 
venting by  quick  maneuvering  considerable  bodies  of  Gallic 
levies  from  joining  Vercingetorix,  directed  his  own  march 
from  Alessia  upon  Langres,  desirous  of  putting  this  strong 
place,  which  was  neutral  and  therefore  a  safe  base,  in  his  rear 
and  then  delivering  battle  as  soon  as  possible.  Before  the 
enemy  could  get  astride  his  road  he  gained  his  communica- 
tions with  Langres  and  deploying  by  the  right  flank  on  the 
heights  of  Prauthoy  and  Selongey,  faced  the  Gallic  Army  as 
it  was  debouching  from  the  valley  of  the  Vingeanne  River. 
The  Roman  kept  the  tactical  defensive,  repulsed  the  enemy's 
impetuous  attack  and  then,  advancing  his  left  flank  at  the 
right  moment,  forced  the  Gauls  into  a  retreat  which,  pressed 
by  the  Romans,  became  a  disastrous  rout.  The  legions  pur- 
sued closely,  penned  up  the  enemy  in  Alessia  and  in  the 
famous  siege  of  that  place,  ending  in  the  surrender  of  Ver- 
cingetorix, completely  quelled  the  rebellion. 

The  Lingones,  whose  passive  aid  contributed  not  a  little 
to  the  success  of  the  Roman  arms,  however  they  may  have 
been  accused  by  conscience  for  their  inglorious  attitude  dur- 
ing the  desperate  struggle  of  their  country  against  its  con- 
querors, profited  materially  thereby  and  remained  in  Roman 
favor  long  after  the  passing  of  the  first  Caesar.  Langres 
became  the  headquarters  of  administration  and  supply  of  a 
large  military  district,  a  financial  center  for  the  collection  of 
public  revenues,  and  a  provincial  capital  of  importance.  Among 
the  buildings  erected  in  the  city  under  Augustus  and  Diocle- 
tian were  a  capitol,  an  amphitheater,  several  temples,  and  a 
college  of  augurs.  An  arch  of  triumph  attributed  to  Marcus 
Aurelius  after  his  war  with  the  Germans  still  exists,  beauti- 
fully preserved,  as  the  walled-up  "Gallo-Roman  Gate"  famil- 
iar to  all  American  soldiers  who  were  stationed  at  Langres, 


Langres  the  Ancient  21 

beside  the  National  Road  from  Chaumont  as  it  climbs  the 
hillside  on  the  west  of  the  town.  The  concentration  of  high- 
ways at  Langres  gave  to  the  city,  great  commercial  advantages 
and  after  the  abortive  revolt  of  Sabinus,  in  71  a.  d.,  the  city 
was  so  large,  that  after  rendering  its  submission  to  the  Ro- 
mans, it  was  able  to  appease  their  anger  by  offering  to  Domi- 
tian,  the  proconsul  of  Gaul,  a  contingent  of  seventy  thousand 
soldiers  for  the  Imperial  armies. 

But  the  prosperity  of  Langres  as  a  Gallo-Roman  metropo- 
lis declined  as  the  Roman  Empire  sank  toward  its  dissolution, 
and  as  its  strong  hands  relaxed,  Gaul  became  a  prey  to  the 
barbaric  invasions  and  the  internal  disorders  which  marked 
the  beginning  of  the  Dark  Ages.  No  longer  upon  the  Rhine 
the  eagles  of  the  legions  overawed  those  eternal  enemies  of 
Gaul  and  of  later  France  who  dwelt  beyond  its  rushing  waters. 
The  first  army,  or  horde,  of  German  and  Vandal  invasion 
under  the  leadership  of  the  ferocious  Chrocus,  surged  across 
the  frontier  about  the  middle  of  the  third  century  a.  d.  In 
the  year  264  they  reached  and  began  the  siege  of  Langres. 

The  inhabitants,  knowing  that  they  could  expect  no  mercy 
.  from  their  assailants,  resisted  with  the  courage  of  despair, 
but  to  little  purpose.  The  Lingones  at  this  day,  in  advance 
of  many  of  the  Gauls,  were  already  thoroughly  Christianized, 
the  first  martyr  of  the  faith  in  the  city  having  been  put  to 
death  in  165  while  the  first  bishop,  St.  Senateur,  came  into 
power  about  the  year  200.  Pressed  now  by  savage  enemies 
the  people,  at  the  end  of  their  material  resources,  turned  to 
their  bishop,  St.  Didier,  a  man  celebrated  for  his  virtues  and 
his  piety.  He  held  a  parley  with  Chrocus  and  besought  him 
to  have  mercy  upon  the  people  of  the  city,  offering  himself  to 
be  burned  alive  as  a  sacrifice  to  save  them  from  massacre. 
The  barbarian  chief  spurned  the  offer  and  St.  Didier  returned 


22  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

into  the  city,  shut  himself  in  the  cathedral  and  devoted  him- 
self to  prayer.  Shortly  the  enemy  forced  one  of  the  gates 
and  the  warriors  spreading  through  the  streets  began  a  whole- 
sale slaughter.  Again  the  bishop,  in  his  robes  of  office, 
appeared  before  Chrocus  and  plead  for  the  people.  The  only 
reply  of  the  German  commander  was  to  order  the  death  of 
the  bishop  and  of  all  his  Christian  followers.  As  he  knelt 
in  prayer  the  head  of  the  prelate  was  shorn  off  with  a  sword 
and  his  blood  spurted  over  the  prayer-book  which  he  clasped 
in  his  hands.  A  thousand  years  later  according  to  popular 
belief  the  blood  of  the  martyr  bishop  was  still  bright  upon 
this  relic,  which  was  preserved  and  became  an  object  of  pil- 
grimage to  crowds  in  search  of  healing.  Langres  was  sacked 
by  the  barbarians  and  its  first  cathedral  was  reduced  to  ruins, 
but  Chrocus,  after  ravaging  all  the  surrounding  country, 
upon  advancing  to  Aries  for  the  purpose  of  destroying  that 
city,  was  at  last  defeated  and  killed. 

It  required  a  long  time  for  Langres  to  recover  from  the 
effects  of  Chrocus'  attack,  but  under  the  judicious  rule  of 
the  Roman  governor,  Constance  Chlore,  it  had  regained  some- 
thing of  its  earlier  population  and  prosperity  when,  after  the 
lapse  of  thirty-six  years,  the  Germans,  undismayed  by  va- 
rious minor  defeats  at  the  hands  of  the  Romans  and  con- 
stantly growing  stronger  as  their  adversaries  grew  weaker, 
again  broke  across  the  Rhine  and  swept  westward.  Langres 
•was  their  chief  objective  and  Constance  Chlore  hastened  to 
the  aid  of  the  city.  Upon  his  arrival,  the  enemy  being  close 
to  the  place,  he  rashly  declined  to  await  the  reinforcements 
for  which  he  had  sent  and  which  were  rapidly  approaching 
and  attacked  the  Germans  at  once  with  very  inferior  num- 
bers. 

The  result  was  that  he  was  defeated,  he  himself  wounded. 


Langres  the  Ancient  23 

and  his  trcwDps  driven  in  rout  toward  Langres.  The  gates 
having  been  closed,  the  wounded  Roman  leader  was  gotten 
into  the  city  only  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  being  hoisted  to 
the  top  of  the  wall  in  a  basket  let  down  with  ropes.  Once 
inside,  however,  he  was  not  too  badly  injured  to  take  com- 
mand of  the  Langrois,  all  of  whom  able  to  bear  arms  had, 
meanwhile,  assembled  in  haste.  His  reinforcements,  like- 
wise, arriving  under  the  walls  about  five  hours  after  his  disas- 
trous preliminary  combat,  the  Roman  general  placed  himself 
at  the  head  of  the  whole  force  and  again  advanced  from  the 
city. 

The  Germans,  confident  that  their  victory  was  already  as 
good  as  won,  had  camped  on  the  opposite  hills  of  the  Marne 
near  the  still-existing  village  of  Peigney,  where  they  were  hold- 
ing high  carousal.  The  Gallo-Roman  forces  crossed  the  river 
and  attacked  them  furiously.  This  time  the  effort  was  com- 
pletely successful,  the  Germans  according  to  no  doubt  grossly 
exaggerated  legend,  leaving  60,000  dead  upon  the  field  of 
their  rout  but,  at  all  events,  being  driven  precipitately  out  of 
the  country.  The  name  of  Peigney  itself  is  thought  to  be  a 
corruption  of  the  Latin  word  pngna,  meaning  "battle,"  while 
scattered  over  the  plateau  between  the  Marne,  the  Liez,  and 
the  Neuilly  brook,  on  which  the  conflict  occurred,  numerous 
bones  and  weapons  have  been  found  in  modern  times. 

It  is  worth  remembering  that  in  the  course  of  its  exist- 
ence since  the  days  of  Julius  Caesar,  France  has  been  invaded 
by  the  Germans  forty-two  times  —  that  is  on  an  average  of 
once  every  forty-seven  years.  It  might  seem  that  after  two 
thousand  years  a  sense  of  discouragement  concerning  their 
ability  ever  to  conquer  France  would  begin  to  permeate  even 
the  predatory  central  tribes  of  Europe.  But  a  distinguished 
Roman  general,  Celarius,  over  fifteen  hundred  years  ago 
3 


24  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

pointed  out  to  the  Gauls  a  truth  as  pregnant  today  as  it  was 
then,  when  he  said  to  them :  "  the  self -same  motives  for  invad- 
ing Gaul  will  ever  endure  among  the  Germans;  love  of 
pleasure  and  love  of  money.  Ever  will  they  be  seen  to  relin- 
quish their  heaths  and  bogs  and  rush  to  your  fertile  plains, 
with  a  view  to  rob  you  of  your  fields  and  make  slaves  of 
you." 

The  fortunate  issue  of  the  struggle  just  described  was  for 
unhappy  Langres  the  last  victory  of  many  a  century.  Held  in 
check  with  increasing  difficulty  by  the  armies  of  the  successive 
Roman  emperors,  Constantine,  Julian,  and  Valentinian,  the 
insatiable  Germans  forced  the  frontiers  of  the  Roman  prov- 
ince of  Gaul  finally  and  completely  in  the  commencement 
of  the  fifth  century  and  poured  their  devastating  hordes  into 
that  devoted  country  and  across  it  into  Spain  and  Italy.  The 
territories  of  Langres,  Troyes,  and  Reims  were  ravaged  suc- 
cessively by  the  Vandals,  the  Suevi,  the  Burgundians,  and 
other  Germanic  tribes  and  at  length  in  451  the  last  abyss  of 
woe  was  reached  in  the  frightful  invasion  of  the  Huns  under 
Attila  (or  Etzel,  as  he  is  called  in  the  German  language). 
Langres,  which  still  possessed  its  Gallo-Roman  fortifications, 
tried  in  vain  to  defend  them.  Attila  carried  the  city  by  as- 
sault, devoted  it  to  flames  and  reduced  it  to  a  heap  of  ashes. 
Nothing  was  left  and  after  the  cataclysm  the  Bishop  of  Lan- 
gres, Fraterne,  was  obliged  to  remove  the  seat  of  his  diocese 
to  Autun  as,  beneath  the  shell  fire  of  the  Germans  of  1914, 
Monseigneur  Ginisty,  Bishop  of  Verdun,  was  obliged  to  re- 
move the  seat  of  his  diocese  to  Bar-le-Duc. 

Soon  after  the  final  defeat  of  Attila  at  Chalons-sur-Marne 
the  last  sparks  of  Roman  power  expired  in  Gaul  and  the 
anarchy  of  the  Dark  Ages  assumed  full  sway.  Langres, 
under  the  rule  of  the  Burgundians,  was  rebuilt,  but  as  little 


Langres  the  Ancient  "  25 

more  than  a  stronghold  where  the  wretched  people  of  the 
countryside  could  gather  as  a  final  refuge  from  successive 
invaders,  both  French  and  foreign.  Clovis,  who  put  the  last 
Romans  out  of  northern  Gaul  in  486,  adopted  Christianity 
and  uniting  all  the  Franks  under  the  Merovingian  dynasty, 
began  to  give  form  to  modern  France,  captured  the  place  in 
his  war  against  Gondebaud,  King  of  Burgundy.  It  is  a  fa- 
miliar fact  that  Clovis,  whose  conversion  to  Christianity  was 
one  of  the  important  episodes  of  history;  was  persuaded  to 
the  step  by  his  wife,  Clotilde.  But  it  is  perhaps  less  well 
known  that  Clotilde  herself  became  a  Christian  through  the 
efforts  of  the  Bishop  of  Langres,  Apruncule,  to  whom  is 
attributed  also  the  establishment  of  the  first  public  schools 
of  Langres. 

Most  miserably  for  the  people  of  northern  France  genera- 
tion followed  generation  and  in  the  ninth  century  the  country 
about  Langres  was  ravaged  year  after  year  by  the  Normans. 
Those  who  remained  of  the  unhappy  inhabitants  dwelt  like 
beasts  in  the  depths  of  the  forests,  often  dying  of  famine 
until,  everything  having  been  plundered,  there  was  nothing 
left  to  excite  the  greed  of  the  invaders  who  came,  not  like  a 
passing  cyclone,  as  Attila  had  come,  but  like  a  slow  pestilence 
destroying  at  leisure.  Men,  houses,  flocks,  fields,  vineyards, 
it  was  said,  were  gone  as  completely  as  if  the  ocean  had  rolled 
over  the  country,  and  in  891,  Bishop  Geilon  died  of  grief 
over  the  desolation  of  his  people,  which  he  was  powerless  to 
relieve. 

Conditions,  however,  now  began  to  improve  a  little  as  the 
local  nobles  found  increasing  means  for  protecting  their  feu- 
datory possessions  from  the  aggressions  of  neighbors  and  as 
the  supreme  authority  of  the  kings  of  France  gained  grad- 
ually in  strength.     The  first  Count  of  Langres  was  Estulphe 


26  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

who  led  3,cxx)  Langrois  soldiers  in  the  army  that  followed 
the  Saracens  into  Spain  and  who,  with  his  followers,  per- 
ished in  yy2  in  that  battle  of  Roncevalles  which  was  immor- 
talized in  one  of  the  greatest  battle  epics  ever  composed, 
The  Song  of  Roland.  Under  the  successors  of  Charlemagne 
the  counts  and  the  county  of  Langres  remained  for  a  long 
time  virtually  independent  between  the  great  feudal  domains 
of  Champagne,  Lorraine,  Franche-Comte,  and  Burgundy. 
But  in  1 179,  Bishop  Gaulthier  of  Burgundy,  having  ransomed 
the  place  after  its  capture  in  a  siege,  offered  it  to  King  Louis 
VII  of  France  on  condition  that  it  should  never  again  be 
alienated  from  the  crown.  The  offer  was  accepted  and  thence- 
forth Langres  remained  under  the  royal  rule  and  protection, 
although  the  latter  often  proved  a  very  slight  guarantee  of 
safety. 

During  the  period  from  1096  to  1270  during  which  the 
Crusades  occurred,  many  of  the  nobility  of  Langres  and  its 
vicinity,  like  those  of  every  other  Christian  land,  took  part 
in  these  expeditions  followed  by  large  numbers  of  their  re- 
tainers. Their  long  absences  from  home  in  such  a  cause 
reflected  credit  upon  their  prowess  and  religious  zeal,  but 
certainly  tended  to  lessen  their  power  in  their  native  land. 
While  they  were  away  the  burghers  of  the  larger  towns,  re- 
maining at  home,  gradually  secured  from  successive  kings 
increased  rights  and  privileges  in  the  way  of  charters  of  self- 
government  for  their  communes  and  exemptions  from  certain 
taxes  and  other  obligations,  all  in  exchange  for  their  accep- 
tance of  the  condition  that  they  support  the  royal  authority 
with  arms  in  case  of  need.  It  was  an  excellent  arrangement, 
both  from  the  king's  standpoint  and  from  that  of  the  bur- 
ghers, for  the  former  thus  acquired  a  formidable  weapon  for 
holding  in  awe  the  powerful  feudal  vassals  who  were  often 


Langres  the  Ancient  27 

rebellious,  while  the  latter  gained  not  only  their  chartered 
privileges  but  also  strength  to  resist  the  exactions  of  oppres- 
sive liege  lords  and  the  depredations  of  neighboring  barons. 
In  evolution,  the  enfranchisement  of  the  communes  presently 
developed  a  distinctly  new  sort  of  military  force.  A  French 
military  historian.  General  Susane,  in  his  Histoire  de  I'lnfan- 
terie,  says : 

In  that  time  of  disorder  and  brigandage,  when  people  were  not 
safe  at  three  hundred  steps  from  the  gates  of  the  city,  when  nothing 
was  more  common  than  to  hear  the  sinister  strokes  of  the  alarm 
bell,  when  there  reigned  among  all  the  peaceable  population  a  great 
terror  of  the  barons  and  of  their  followers;  when,  moreover,  the 
gendarmerie  were  enemies  rather  than  protectors,  it  did  not  suffice 
merely  to  carry  upon  the  rolls  of  the  militia  the  names  of  all  men 
capable  of  bearing  arms.  It  was  necessary,  also,  to  have  recourse 
to  volunteers  and  to  mercenaries.  It  was  under  the  reign  of  the 
warlike  Philip- Augustus  that  the  celebrated  companies  of  arbalesters 
(crossbowmen)  were  formed  —  the  first  effort  in  France  at  the 
organization  of  infantry  troops. 

These  companies  of  arbalesters,  who  later  after  the  intro- 
duction of  gunpowder  became  known  as  arquebusiers  (muske- 
teers), were  hired  by  their  respective  communes  and  kept 
themselves  in  a  state  of  military  efficiency  for  the  protection 
of  the  commune  and  the  service  of  the  sovereign  when  re- 
quired. Having  an  underlying  common  interest,  the  compa- 
nies of  the  different  towns  eventually  formed  a  sort  of  union, 
thus  further  increasing  their  prestige.  So  popular  did  the 
service  become  and  so  keen  was  the  rivalry  between  the 
young  men  of  the  country  for  places  in  its  ranks  that  little  by 
little  military  exercises,  by  way  of  qualification,  became  one 
of  the  most  important  occupations  of  the  people  and  the  whole 
militia  acquired,  almost  unconsciously,  some  degree  of  train- 
ing. This  fact  was  of  particular  importance  from  the  king's 
standpoint,  which  in  that  day  meant  practically  the  national 


28  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

standpoint,  and  the  development  of  the  communal  troops 
exercised  a  very  potent  influence  upon  the  history  of  the 
country. 

The  great  seigneurs,  though  nominally  vassals  of  the  king 
and  protectors  of  the  land  against  German  invaders,  had  be- 
come, in  fact,  the  terrors  of  tjie  realm.  Holding  their  mas- 
sively fortified  chateaux  in  places  the  least  accessible  to  attack, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  most  convenient  for  marauding  on 
the  countryside  and  along  the  few  existing  roads,  no  traveled 
way  was  safe  from  the  depredations  of  these  "  robber  barons  " 
nor  was  hardly  any  individual  respected  in  their  eyes.  These 
scions  of  ancient  and  illustrious  families  which  had  shared  the 
glories  of  Charlemagne  and  carried  the  banners  of  the  cross 
into  the  Holy  Land,  degenerated  now  to  the  level  of  highway- 
men and  petty  partisans  carrying  on  feudal  warfare  with  one 
another,  often  sought  to  soothe  their  consciences  for  crimes 
committed  by  bestowing  great  legacies  of  lands,  buildings,  or 
money  upon  the  church  which  thus,  in  turn,  acquired  enor- 
mous temporal  power.  But  even  such  a  personage  as  the 
Bishop  of  Langres,  who  in  this  way  had  become  one  of  the 
dominating  ecclesiastics  and  one  of  the  greatest  secular  pow- 
ers in  the  kingdom,  being  one  of  the  Twelve  Peers  of  France, 
found  it  not  always  safe  to  venture  with  his  cavalcade  outside 
the  high  towered  walls  of  his  episcopal  city,  for  the  barons  of 
the  castles  along  the  road,  whether  or  not  they  nominally  owed 
him  allegiance,  were  not  to  be  trusted.  The  organized  militia 
of  the  larger  towns  became  an  effective  weapon  to  use  against 
such  disturbers  of  the  peace  and  it  very  soon  began  to  be  put 
to  such  use. 

Among  the  most  important  chateaux  of  Bassigny  connected 
with  the  history  of  Langres  either  by  reason  of  hostilities  or 
because  the  Bishop  of  Langres  had  rights  over  them,  may  be 


Langres  the  Ancient  29 

mentioned  those  of  Aigremont,  Clefmont,  and  Bourmont.  The 
village  of  Bourmont,  appertaining  formerly  to  the  chateau  of 
that  name,  will  be  remembered  by  many  Americans  as  the 
seat  of  the  Advance  Quartermaster  Depot  7,  where  the  first 
American  railhead  was  established  in  December,  19 17,  and 
around  which  were  camped  at  different  times  in  the  summer 
and  fall  of  19 18,  the  Forty-second,  Seventy-eighth,  and 
Eighty-second  Divisions.  All  of  the  chateaux  mentioned  were 
located  from  25  to  35  kilometers  northeast  of  Langres  and 
dominated  the  high  country  between  the  Marne  and  the  Meuse. 
Other  important  chateaux  were  those  of  Bourg,  Montsau- 
gon,  Cusey,  Coifify-le-Haut,  Angoulevant,  and  Humes.  The 
chateau  of  Bourg,  ruling  the  neighborhood  in  which,  in  19 18, 
was  located  the  great  American  Tank  Center  302  and  the 
School  of  Tank  Instruction,  overlooked  and  controlled  the 
course  of  the  Vingeanne  River.  The  structure  consisted  of 
a  number  of  great  towers  and  a  donjon  from  the  summit  of 
which  the  Bishop  of  Langres,  who  possessed  it,  could  look 
down  upon  his  numerous  fiefs,  his  vision  embracing  from 
there,  so  it  has  been  picturesquely  recorded,  "all  the  high 
valley  of  the  Vingeanne,  the  confines  of  Montsaugonais,  going 
thence  to  rest  upon  the  hills  of  Burgundy,  the  junction  of 
which  with  the  plateau  of  Langres  is  lost  at  the  horizon  in  the 
blue  mists  of  morning." 

The  high-handed  conduct  of  the  local  lords  of  these  va- 
rious castles  finally  became  so  unendurable  that  the  people  of 
the  larger  towns  exerted  their  military  power  to  destroy  the 
places  and  reduce  their  lawless  occupants  to  order.  A  char- 
acteristic expedition  of  this  sort,  conducted  with  due  cere- 
mony by  the  men  of  Langres,  resulted  in  the  demolition  of 
the  Chateau  of  Angoulevant  in  1424.  This  structure  domi- 
nated from  its  seat  on  the  crest  of  the  hills  hardly  more  than 


30  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

two  kilometers  east  of  the  walls  of  Langres  the  confluence  of 
the  Marne  and  the  Liez.  It  stood  on  the  exact  spot  now  occu- 
pied by  the  Farm  of  Angoulevant,  beside  the  Reservoir  de  la 
Liez;  a  place  conspicuous  in  the  middle  distance  from  that 
splendid  observation  point  of  the  Langres  ramparts  at  the 
table  of  orientation  on  the  Rue  Constance  Chlore,  from  which 
on  clear  days  the  summit  of  Mont  Blanc  may  be  seen.  An- 
goulevant was  held  in  1424  as  a  veritable  highwaymen's  roost 
by  the  haughty  and  enterprising  Sire  Jean  de  Maligny.  This 
robber  baron  having  defied  the  Langrois  once  too  often,  on  a 
certain  day  criers  went  through  the  streets  of  the  city  calling, 
in  the  name  of  the  king,  for  all  masons,  carpenters,  and  join- 
ers to  assemble  "  for  the  purpose  of  being  conducted  where  it 
was  necessary  that  they  should  be  conducted."  When  troops 
and  artisans  were  gathered,  they  marched  out  of  the  city 
and  across  the  Marne  Valley  and  halted  at  the  foot  of  the 
chateau  walls.  Here  a  trumpeter,  in  the  name  of  the  king 
and  of  the  burgesses  of  Langres,  summoned  the  occupants  to 
surrender.  But  the  Sire  de  Maligny  and  his  followers,  seeing 
the  storm  approaching,  had  fled,  so  while  the  horsemen  of  the 
assailants  kept  guard  over  the  countryside,  the  workmen  and 
foot  soldiers  entered  the  abandoned  castle  and  began  tearing 
it  down.  And  according  to  the  ancient  legal  document,  still 
in  existence,  which  described  the  proceedings,  "  no  one  re- 
turned to  the  city  until  the  said  demolition  was  completed." 
Through  such  enterprises  as  the  above,  which  was  dupli- 
cated many  times  during  the  ensuing  two  hundred  years 
against  other  strongholds  of  the  provincial  nobles  by  the  mu- 
nicipal soldiery  of  Langres,  Chaumont,  and  other  towns,  the 
people  of  Langres  gained  an  increasing  confidence  in  their 
own  strength  and  an  increasing  standing  with  the  kings  of 
France.    Alreadv  in  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century,  to 


Langres  the  Ancient  31 

protect  the  growing  population  which  had  spread  far  beyond 
the  old  Roman  walls,  a  new  and  larger  system  of  fortifica- 
tions was  built.  In  1465  King  Charles  vii  granted  to  the  city 
the  right  to  elect  four  citizens  to  have  charge  of  the  local 
government  and  this  system  was  improved  upon  a  century 
and  a  quarter  later  when  Henry  iii,  the  last  of  the  Valois, 
authorized  the  election  of  a  mayor.  Nevertheless,  though  the 
people  were  thus  rendered  largely  independent  in  their  local 
affairs,  their  nominal  lord,  the  Bishop  of  Langres,  had  like- 
wise greatly  increased  his  power.  Ranking  with  the  mightiest 
dukes  and  counts  of  the  realm  he  rendered  homage  to  no  man 
save  the  king  himself,  but  received  that  of  such  dignitaries  as 
the  Count  of  Champagne  and  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  while  at 
the  coronation  of  the  king  he  carried  the  scepter  in  the  pro- 
cession and  walked  ahead  of  his  metropolitan,  the  Archbishop 
of  Lyon. 

During  the  Hundred  Years'  War  the  country  about  Lan- 
gres suffered  almost  without  respite  the  hardships  and  devas- 
tation occasioned  by  the  armies  and  plundering  expeditions 
of  English,  Burgundians,  and  Germans  which  continually 
ravaged  northern  France  throughout  the  decades  of  that  con- 
flict. The  city  itself  on  its  fortress-crowned  cliffs  fared  bet- 
ter for  it  was  credited  with  being  the  strongest  city  of  the 
realm  and  a  certain  amount  of  industry  flourished  there,  in- 
cluding the  manufacture  of  cannon,  the  first  of  which  to  be 
made  in  France  were  cast  at  Langres  and  used  at  the  battle  of 
Poitiers  in  1356.  Although  for  a  time  the  city,  chiefly 
through  the  influence  of  certain  leaders,  acknowledged  the 
sovereignty  of  the  English  claimant  to  the  throne  of  France 
this  attitude  was  not  held  for  long  and  in  the  main  during 
the  course  of  the  protracted  struggle  Langres  gave  its  aid  to 
the  French  king.     Therefore  when  at  last,  through  all  the 


32  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

sordid  and  selfish  factionalism  of  Armagnacs  and  Burgun- 
dians  which  alone  was  dictating  the  conduct  of  both  parties 
to  the  quarrel,  there  arose  that  one  clear,  girlish  voice  which 
called  on  Frenchmen,  in  the  name  of  forgotten  patriotism,  to 
fight  for  France,  Jeanne  d'Arc  found  in  the  people  of  Langres 
ready  sympathizers. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  enter  upon  the  details  of  the  number- 
less conflicts  which  centered  around  Langres  or  involved  her 
military  strength  during  the  civil  and  religious  wars  which 
convulsed  France  in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries.  But 
it  is  of  interest  to  note  that  between  1498  and  i'547,  under 
King  Louis  xii,  and  his  successor,  Francis  i,  the  fortifica- 
tions were  again  remodeled  and  enlarged,  one  of  the  principal 
structures  then  built  being  the  Tower  of  Navarre,  a  perfect 
example  of  the  military  architecture,  of  that  epoch  which  still 
stands  at  the  southwestern  corner  of  the  battlements,  a  famil- 
iar object  to  most  visitors  to  the  hilltop  city.  Like  the  rest 
of  the  fortifications  built  at  that  time  the  Tower  of  Navarre 
was  designed  by  the  engineer,  Jean  de  Dammarien.  It  is  a 
bastion  open  at  the  gorge,  having  very  high  and  massively 
built  circular  walls  which  cause  it  to  resemble  some  of  the 
towers  of  the  Middle  Ages.  But  it  was  much  more  modern 
in  other  respects,  possessing  two  tiers  of  casemates  and  four 
rows  of  batteries  commanding  the  adjacent  curtains,  while 
in  the  center  was  a  spiral  ramp  permitting  a  cannon  to  be 
placed  at  a  point  commanding  the  upper  platforms  of  the 
tower  itself. 

King  Francis  is  said  to  have  been  much  delighted  with  the 
Tower  of  Navarre,  and  to  have  gone  over  it  five  or  six  times 
during  his  visit  to  Langres  in  1547,  admiring  its  powerful 
construction.  His  solicitude  for  the  frontier  city  bore  good 
fruit  for  when  the  Count  of  Fiirstenberg  with  a  German  army 


Langres  the  Ancient  33 

besieged  Chaumont  in  1523  he  dared  not  attack  Langres  in 
like  manner,  while  again  in  1552  Charles  v,  of  Germany 
himself,  going  with  100,000  men  against  Metz,  Toul,  and  Ver- 
dun, left  Langres  alone  as  did  another  German  army  under 
the  Baron  Pollwiller  in  1557,  although  the  latter  occupied  for 
some  time  the  greater  part  of  Bassigny.  The  massive  Porte 
des  Moulins,  still  the  principal  entrance  to  the  city,  was  not 
erected  until  nearly  a  century  after  these  passages  of  warfare, 
under  the  reign  of  King  Louis  xiii. 

Langres  adhered  to  the  Catholic  party  during  the  Relig- 
ious Wars  but,  even  so,  conducted  herself  with  much  indepen- 
dence as  on  one  occasion  in  1588  when  the  Duke  of  Guise 
himself  at  the  head  of  a  Catholic  army  was  refused  admit- 
tance into  the  walls  because  his  motives  were  suspected.  The 
Peace  of  Vervins,  in  1598,  elicited  public  rejoicings  in  Lan- 
gres and  for  the  following  sixteen  years  a  sort  of  uneasy 
peace  was  enjoyed  until  civil  wars  again  began  between  pow- 
erful political  rivals  whose  intrigues  centered  about  the 
faction-torn  court  of  Louis  xiii.  During  the  brief  period  of 
tranquility,  however,  Langres  received  from  the  king  or 
rather,  since  he  was  still  in  his  minority,  from  the  regent,  his 
mother,  Marie  de  Medici,  certain  added  privileges  for  its 
faithfulness  to  the  crown.  Among  these  was  a  curious  fran- 
chise given  by  letters  patent  to  citizens  of  the  town  who  proved 
themselves  particularly  expert  in  the  use  of  the  bow,  the 
crossbow,  and  the  arquebus.  Once  each  year  there  were  to 
be  raised  upon  the  pinnacle  of  the  cathedral  three  painted  birds 
to  be  used  as  targets.  Any  marksman  who  shot  down  one 
of  these  birds  with  either  an  arrow  or  a  bullet  was  exempted 
during  a  whole  year  from  guard  duty  on  the  ramparts.  To 
any  man  repeating  the  performance  during  three  successive 
•years  exemption  from  all  taxes  was  granted  during  the  rest 


34  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

of  his  life  and  the  exemption  extended  to  his  widow  after  his 
death. 

In  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  Cardinal  Richelieu  made  Lan- 
gres  the  base  of  the  French  armies  in  eastern  France,  The 
results  of  this  struggle  were  auspicious  for  the  city,  the  Ger- 
man power  in  Lorraine  being  extinguished  and  that  country 
made  a  part  of  France,  putting  an  end  to  the  age-old  inva- 
sions of  France  from  that  quarter. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  during  all  her  centuries  of 
warfare  Langres  contributed  nothing  to  the  pursuits  of  peace. 
A  long  line  of  martyrs,  saints,  and  prelates,  some  of  whom 
attained  to  the  highest  places  in  the  church  and  many  of 
whom  contributed  extensively  to  religious  and  speculative  lit- 
erature, have  graced  her  career  from  the  second  century  to 
the  present.  Eminent  artists,  authors,  statesmen,  professional 
men,  and  inventors  have  been  among  her  children.  The  bish- 
ops of  Langres,  of  whom  there  had  been  no  less  than  one  hun- 
dred and  four  in  succession  up  to  1852,  included  St.  Didier, 
St.  Bernard,  the  leader  of  the  Second  Crusade,  and  St. 
Mammes.  In  secular  life  the  city  gave  an  even  greater  num- 
ber of  distinguished  sons.  Some  of  them  have  been :  Barbier 
d'Aucour,  seventeenth-century  author,  who  wrote  a  large  part 
of  the  dictionary  of  the  Academie  Frangais;  Toussaint  Ber- 
chet,  Protestant  writer  of  the  latter  half  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury; the  Tassels,  father,  son,  and  grandson,  painters,  who 
between  1550  and  1667  executed  many  works  of  art  of  which 
a  number  are  to  be  found  today  in  the  cities  of  eastern  France ; 
Nicolas  Delausne  who  about  1640  first  used  spherical  globes 
for  the  study  of  geography ;  the  artist  Jean  Dubuisson ;  Pierre 
Petitot  and  Foucou,  the  sculptors;  Nicolas  Ebaudy  de  Fres- 
nes,  political  economist;  Nicolas  Jensen,  who  became  one  of 
the   earliest   printers   of   Venice;    Claude   Laurent-Bournot, 


Langres  the  Ancient  3^ 


printer  and  inventor  of  improvements  in  the  printing  art 
under  the  Restoration  and  Edouard  Gaulle,  sculptor,  whose 
work  appears  in  many  churches  and  buildings  of  Paris. 

But,  among  them  all,  the  most  famous  was  unquestiona- 
bly Denis  Diderot,  born  at  Langres,  the  son  of  an  obscure 
cutler,  in  17 13,  and  died  at  Paris  in  1784,  honored  by  the 
whole  intellectual  world.  This  almost  incredibly  eloquent 
conversationalist,  brilliant  thinker,  and  versatile  and  prolific 
writer,  conceived,  with  D'Alambert,  the  idea  of  that  encyclo- 
pedia which  should  be  not  merely  a  summing  up  of  the  exist- 
ing facts  of  the  world  but  a  system  of  human  knowledge. 
Almost  alone  he  carried  this  gigantic  project  to  completion, 
along  with  a  number  of  lesser  works,  between  the  years  175 1 
and  1772.  Though  revealing  no  scepticism  regarding  Chris- 
tianity itself,  no  disrespect  for  government  and  no  radical 
political  views  which  today  would  seem  more  than  conserva- 
tive, his  work  outraged  the  autocratic  government  of  France 
under  which  he  lived  and  the  bigoted  dogmatism  then  pre- 
vailing in  the  church  because  of  the  reasoned  eloquence  with 
which  it  set  forth  ideas  of  religious  tolerance  and  speculative 
freedom,  exalted  scientific  knowledge,  and  peaceful  industry, 
and  declared  the  democratic  doctrine  that  the  chief  concern  of 
a  government  ought  to  be  the  lot  of  the  common  people  of  the 
nation.  Although  he  lived  to  shame  his  enemies,  these  dis- 
turbing doctrines  of  Diderot  more  than  once  brought  him 
persecution  from  both  civil  and  religious  authorities.  But 
they  also  furnished  part  of  the  mental  fuel  so  plentifully  sup- 
plied by  French  thinkers  of  this  epoch  to  eager  minds  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  powerfully  aiding  to  produce  the 
American  Revolution  which,  in  turn,  by  its  example  of  suc- 
cessful resistance  to  tyranny,  was  a  chief  encouragement  to 
the  French  Revolution  itself. 


36  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

Although  the  walls  of  Langres  were  again  modernized 
in  1698  by  Marshal  Vauban,  the  great  engineer  of  Louis 
XIV,  who  revolutionized  the  art  of  fortification  and  gave  to 
France  the  most  formidable  system  of  frontier  defenses  she 
ever  had  possessed,  it  was  not  until  one  hundred  and  fifteen 
years  later  that  the  city  was  again  subjected  to  the  ordeal  by 
battle.  Then  came  the  magnificent,  but  losing,  struggle  of 
Napoleon,  at  the  head  of  the  armies  of  Imperial  France, 
against  the  combined  strength  of  Europe  which  was  fighting, 
as  mankind  always  will  fight,  against  the  encroachments  of 
a  conqueror,  whatever  his  power  or  prestige  or  his  excuse 
for  attempted  tyranny  over  alien  peoples.  The  part  played 
by  Langres  in  this  campaign,  which  was  made  by  the  genius 
of  Napoleon  one  of  the  most  brilliant  in  all  military  history, 
was  not  a  major  one  but  it  demonstrated  the  importance  of 
the  city  and  of  the  Marne  Valley  in  the  military  geography 
of  eastern  France. 

When,  following  his  disastrous  defeat  at  Leipzig  in  Octo- 
ber, 181 3,  the  Emperor  of  the  French  had  retreated  across 
the  Rhine,  his  enemies,  firmly  resolved  to  bring  to  an  end  the 
prolonged  struggle  for  the  control  of  Europe,  pursued  him 
promptly  with  enormously  superior  numbers.  The  emperor 
did  not  attempt  to  meet  them  on  the  Rhine  with  his  weary  and 
depleted  forces  but  retired  to  positions  well  within  the  fron- 
tier where  he  could  defend  Paris.  Marshal  Blucher,  with  a 
Prussian  army  of  80,000  men  crossed  the  Rhine  in  December 
and  advanced  through  Nancy  toward  the  Marne  at  Chalons, 
while  the  Prince  of  Schwarzenberg,  violating  the  neutrality 
of  Switzerland  and  crossing  the  Rhine  at  Basle  early  in  Jan- 
uary, 1814,  at  the  head  of  an  army  of  160,000  Austrians  and 
Russians,  invaded  France  by  way  of  the  Pass  of  Bel  fort  and 
the  valley  of  the  Saone. 


Langres  the  Ancient  37 


Having  cleared  the  Vosges  and  the  Jura  Mountains  and 
gained  the  more  open  country  beyond,  Schwarzenberg  turned 
northwest  with  the  object,  first,  of  gaining  contact  with 
Bliicher  down  the  valley  of  the  Marne  in  the  vicinity  of 
Chaumont  and,  second,  of  pursuing  his  own  march  toward 
Paris  by  way  of  the  Seine.  But  barring  his  way  to  the  accom- 
plishment of  either  object  was  the  plateau  and  fortress  of 
Langres.  Napoleon,  who  with  his  main  body  was  taking  up 
a  central  position  between  Chalons  and  Troyes  in  order  to 
present  a  single  front  to  the  divided  armies  of  his  foes,  had 
directed  Marshal  Mortier  with  the  Old  Guard  upon  Lan- 
gres, under  orders  to  hold  the  place  while  the  main  army  was 
forming.  Schwarzenberg,  however,  having  been  thus  far 
unopposed,  was  advancing  from  Belfort  by  Vesoul  with  more 
than  his  usual  energy  and  a  body  of  his  cavalry  under  the 
Count  of  Thurn  arrived  before  the  closed  gates  of  Langres 
on  January  9. 

The  old  Vauban  defenses,  unused  for  more  than  a  cen- 
tury, had  largely  gone  to  ruin  and  there  were  no  troops  to 
defend  them  save  a  handful  of  National  Guards,  hastily 
levied,  and  a  few  superannuated  veterans,  and  government 
employees.  But  under  gallant  officers  these  men  determined 
to  present  a  bold  front  and  if  possible  to  hold  Langres  until 
the  arrival  of  Mortier  who  was  rapidly  approaching  from 
Reims.  A  detachment  of  Austrian  cavalry  which  attempted 
to  rush  the  Porte  des  Moulins  on  the  morning  of  the  ninth 
was  driven  back  by  the  fire  of  the  defenders.  At  twilight  that 
evening  Colonel  Thurn  sent  forward  to  the  gates  under  a 
flag  of  truce  an  aide-de-camp  bearing  a  demand  for  the  sur- 
render of  the  place.  The  aide  was  followed  at  a  little  distance 
by  a  detachment  of  Bavarian  cavalry.  As  the  emissary  de- 
sired to  confer  with  the  mayor  the  gates  were  opened  to 


38  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

admit  him,  but  no  sooner  was  the  passageway  clear  than  the 
Bavarian  cavalry,  violating  the  flag  of  truce,  dashed  forward 
to  seize  the  gates.  The  National  Guards,  however,  were  too 
quick  for  them ;  a  volley  drove  back  the  treacherous  assailants 
and  the  gates  were  closed. 

On  the  morning  of  the  tenth  the  main  body  of  the  Aus- 
trian advance  guard  under  General  Hulst  arrived  before  the 
city  from  the  east.  But  before  they  could  dispose  themselves 
for  an  attack  the  head  of  column  of  Mortier's  Old  Guard,  a 
body  of  some  of  the  finest  veterans  still  remaining  of  the  Im- 
perial armies,  made  its  appearance  from  the  north  after  an 
all-night  forced  march  down  the  road  from  Chaumont.  The 
Old  Guard  was  received  with  wild  enthusiasm  by  the  inhabi- 
tants and,  for  the  moment,  Langres  was  saved. 

But  its  situation  was  not,  in  fact,  improved  in  any  per- 
manent way.  Marshal  Mortier's  troops,  though  of  the  high- 
est quality,  were  few  in  number  compared  with  the  hosts  of 
enemies  advancing  upon  them.  Napoleon  had  no  reinforce- 
ments which  he  could  send  and  the  levy  in  mass  on  a  country 
already  nearly  exhausted  of  men  capable  of  bearing  arms 
bore  scant  fruit.  Although  during  the  next  six  days  the 
French  outposts  held  back  the  enemy's  advance  detachments, 
defeating  them  in  numerous  lively  skirmishes,  Schwarzen- 
berg's  great  front  of  invasion  continued  steadily  advancing 
from  the  south  and  the  northeast.  On  January  16  Marshal 
Mortier  learned  that  the  enemy  was  in  force  at  Bourbonne- 
les-Bains  and  moving  without  pause  toward  Chaumont,  di- 
rectly on  the  French  line  of  retreat  to  Bar-sur-Aube  and 
Troyes.  The  marshal  had  under  his  command  about  10,000 
men;  the  enemy's  widely  encircling  front  contained  more 
than  30,000.  Fearing  to  be  cut  off  from  the  main  French 
army,   Mortier  therefore  reluctantly  ordered  the  evacuation 


Langres  the  Ancient  39 

of  Langres  and  fell  back  on  Chaumont,  his  men  steadily  driv- 
ing back  the  enemy's  pursuing  cavalry  in  brisk  skirmishes  at 
Vesaignes  and  Marnay. 

Next  day  Langres,  powerless  to  resist,  surrendered 
through  its  civil  authorities  and  became  for  the  time  being 
the  headquarters  of  Schwarzenberg  and  of  the  three  allied 
monarchs,  Alexander  of  Russia,  Francis  11  of  Austria,  and 
Frederick  William  iii  of  Prussia,  and  the  center  of  a  motley 
throng  of  their  followers,  Austrians,  Hungarians,  Bavarians, 
Russians,  and  Cossacks,  who  thoroughly  stripped  the  city 
and  its  environs  of  every  variety  of  subsistence.  In  181 5, 
after  Waterloo,  the  city,  defended  only  by  its  militia,  was  a 
second  time  captured  after  a  short  but  fierce  resistance,  by 
an  Austrian  corps  under  the  Count  Colloredo  and  was  occu- 
pied until  late  in  the  following  autumn. 

In  the  years  succeeding  the  Napoleonic  wars  the  fortifica- 
tions of  Langres  were  again  brought  up  to  date  and  greatly 
enlarged.  Then  it  was  that  the  citadel  and  the  entrenched 
camp,  still  in  use  today,  were  built  directly  south  of  the  old 
city  wall,  together  with  the  two  outlying  forts  of  Peigney  and 
La  Bonelle,  the  first  on  the  hill  of  the  ancient  battle  across 
the  Marne,  the  second  among  the  rolling  fields  of  the  plateau 
southwest  of  the  city.  Though  made  capable  of  sheltering 
5o,ooo  troops  and  feeding  them  for  a  considerable  period  from 
its  immense  magazines,  the  place  could  be  defended  by  a 
much  smaller  number  as,  in  fact,  it  was  during  the  Franco- 
Prussian  War  of   1870-71. 

In  that  conflict,  so  brief  but  so  disastrous  for  France, 
Langres  found  itself  threatened  by  the  advancing  armies  of 
the  hereditary  enemy  very  soon  after  the  first  reverses  to  the 
French  arms  near  the  frontier.  Fortunately,  in  a  time  when 
so  many  proved  inefficient,  an  officer  of  energy  and  resolu- 


40  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

tion  was  found  in  command  at  Langres  —  General  Arbellot. 
About  a  nucleus  composed  of  the  2,400  troops,  artillery  and 
infantry,  which  formed  the  garrison,  he  gathered  a  motley 
array  of  12,500  recruits  mobilized  from  the  neighboring  de- 
partments. National  Guards,  and  volunteer  citizens,  practi- 
cally none  of  whom  possessed  any  training  or  discipline.  These 
men  were  hurriedly  fitted  out  with  such  ill-assorted  weapons 
and  equipment  as  could  be  furnished  from  the  arsenal  of 
the  fortress,  whose  upkeep  had  been  sadly  neglected. 

The  spirits  of  these  hasty  levies  were  reduced  to  the  low- 
est possible  ebb  by  the  constantly  arriving  news  of  appalling 
reverses  which  were  befalling  the  French  armies  everywhere. 
But,  nevertheless,  by  prodigious  efforts  General  Arbellot  re- 
duced them  to  some  sort  of  order,  completed  a  series  of  tem- 
porary earthwork  forts  on  the  hills  far  enough  distant  to  hold 
the  enemy  beyond  artillery  range  of  the  city  and  occupied  with 
strong  detachments  a  circle  of  villages  still  farther  distant. 
Thus  his  forces  stood  when  early  in  October  the  Fourteenth 
German  Corps  arrived  in  the  Department  of  the  Haute-Marne 
from  the  direction  of  Strassburg,  seized  Chaumont,  and  took 
up  a  line  of  observation  just  beyond  the  front  held  by  Gen- 
eral Arbellot,  eventually  surrounding  and  practically  isolating 
Langres,  although  at  a  great  distance  from  the  city. 

The  chief  duty  of  the  invaders  in  this  region  was  to  guard 
the  communications  between  the  frontiers  of  Germany  and 
their  armies  which  were  besieging  Paris.  Over  these  communi- 
cations General  Arbellot  from  his  central  position  at  Langres, 
within  striking  distance  of  most  of  the  railways  and  highways 
of  the  southern  Haute-Marne,  was  able  to  hold  a  constant 
threat.  Many  of  his  untrained  troops  proved  capable  raiders 
and  throughout  the  autumn  and  winter  strong  detachments 
were  going  out  constantly  in  every  direction  attacking,  with 


Langres  the  Ancient  41 

increasing  skill  and  boldness,  German  outposts  and  garrisoned 
villages,  destroying  convoys,  and  wrecking  railroad  trains. 
Although  from  time  to  time  the  Germans  were  largely  rein- 
forced, they  were  never  able  to  threaten  Langres  seriously  and 
on  only  a  few  occasions  did  any  of  their  troops  come  within 
range  of  the  guns  of  the  citadel  or  even  of  the  encircling 
forts. 

On  one  of  these  occasions  on  December  16,  1870,  a  French 
column  of  2,000  men  with  four  guns,  under  command  of 
Major  Kock,  was  making  a  reconnaissance  in  force  on  the 
highroad  to  Dijon  when  it  was  surprised  at  Longeau,  10  kilo- 
meters south  of  Langres,  by  6,500  Germans  with  15  cannon 
under  General  von  Goltz.  All  their  higher  officers,  including 
Major  Kock,  being  killed  in  the  beginning  of  the  action,  the 
French,  although  they  fought  bravely,  were  badly  defeated 
and  retreated  on  Langres.  The  enemy  pursued  them  to  the 
plateau  above  Bourg  where  the  fire  from  Fort  de  la  Marnotte 
and  Fort  de  la  Bonelle  halted  the  pursuit. 

At  another  time,  still  earlier  in  the  operations,  strong 
German  columns  advancing  from  the  northeast  and  the 
northwest  undertook  on  November  15  to  force  their  way 
close  to  Langres  for  the  purpose  of  discovering  where  battery 
positions  could  be  located  for  the  bombardment  of  the  cita- 
del. The  column  from  the  northwest  did  not  get  very  close, 
but  the  one  from  the  northeast,  after  a  combat  with  a  com- 
pany of  recruits  at  Bannes,  forced  its  way  into  the  village  of 
Peigney  whence  a  detachment  tried  to  reach  the  Marne  through 
the  ravine  north  of  that  village.  The  fire  from  Fort  de  Peigney 
soon  dislodged  the  Germans  who  had  entered  that  place  while 
those  in  the  ravine  were  driven  back  by  the  shells  from  a 
French  battery  at  the  Langres-Marne  railroad  station  and 
another  on  the  crest  of  the  Fourches  Hill,  a  small  eminence 


42  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

in  the  valley  a  kilometer  northwest  of  the  city  walls.  Today 
on  the  summit  of  Les  Fourches,  which  is  itself  an  artificial 
mound  bearing  near  its  summit  the  huge  stones  of  a  prehis- 
toric cromlech,  stands  a  little  circular  shrine  with  domed  roof 
sheltering  a  statue  of  the  Virgin,  which  looks  down  upon  the 
Chaumont  road  and  commemorates  the  gratitude  of  the  peo- 
ple of  Langres  that  in  the  war  of  1870  from  this  spot  the 
Germans  were  brought  to  a  halt  in  their  nearest  approach  to 
the  city. 

Following  the  surrender  of  Paris,  the  armistice  which 
terminated  hostilities  was  signed  on  January  28,  1871,  and 
immediately  thereafter  the  French  commander  at  Langres  and 
the  German  commander  at  Chaumont  entered  into  a  conven- 
tion by  which  the  benefits  of  the  armistice  were  extended  to 
Langres  and  the  troops  holding  it.  Thus  the  faithful  defend- 
ers achieved  for  Langres  a  unique  distinction  among  the 
French  fortresses  for  it  never  came  into  possession  of  the 
Germans  either  before  or  after  the  armistice,  although  even 
Belfort  fell  into  their  hands  in  February,  1871,  despite  the 
gallant  defense  of  Colonel  Denfert-Rochereau. 

In  the  years  which  intervened  between  the  Franco-Prus- 
sian war  and  the  World  War  of  19 14,  a  circle  of  new  con- 
crete and  steel  turret  forts  was  built  around  Langres  at  a 
distance  of  15  to  18  kilometers.  The  bitter  experiences  of 
such  fortresses  as  Liege,  Namur,  and  Antwerp  proved  con- 
clusively that  such  structures  cannot  stand  against  modern 
artillery,  but  those  of  Langres  were  never  thus  tested.  A 
great  French  military  center  during  the  first  part  of  the  war, 
the  city  derived  its  greatest  importance  in  the  final  months 
of  the  conflict  from  the  establishment  there  of  the  American 
Army  Schools,  and  from  the  autumn  of  19 17  until  the  spring 
of  1919  most  of  the  forts  around  the  place  as  well  as  the  cita- 


Langres  the  Ancient  43 

del  and  the  city  itself  were  thronged  with  officers  and  soldiers 
in  olive  drab,  most  of  them  connected  in  one  way  or  another 
with  some  of  these  institutions  of  military  education. 

The  Army  Schools  were  a  necessary  outgrowth  of  the 
highly  technical  nature  of  modern  warfare,  which  obliges  not 
only  many  officers,  but  also  great  numbers  of  enlisted  men, 
to  acquire  close  familiarity  with  the  duties  and  the  material 
of  their  respective  branches  of  the  service.  Very  soon  after  ar- 
riving in  France,  in  the  summer  of  1917,  General  Pershing, 
commanding  the  American  Expeditionary  Forces,  took 
steps  to  establish  proper  centers  of  instruction  for  the  troops 
of  his  command  as  they  should  arrive  from  America.  The 
work  was  started  with  the  assistance  of  a  number  of  experi- 
enced officers  and  men  of  the  French  and  British  services  who 
were  later  either  replaced  or  supplemented  by  Americans, 
after  the  latter  had  become  proficient. 

The  general  instruction  system  embraced  three  grades  of 
schools;  those  of  the  division,  the  corps,  and  the  army.  Each 
division  within  its  own  training  area  had  a  school  and  train- 
ing center  for  the  instruction  of  its  own  personnel ;  each  corps 
had  an  instruction  center  for  the  training  of  replacements, 
officers  and  men,  and  all  grades  of  commanders  for  four 
combat  divisions.  The  army  itself  maintained  a  group  of 
schools  for  the  preparation  of  instructors  for  the  corps  and 
division  schools  and  for  the  instruction  of  staff  officers,  can- 
didates for  commissions,  and  officers  and  men  of  the  various 
special  branches  of  army  troops. 

It  was  at  Langres  that  there  centered  the  group  of  Army 
Schools  which  filled  the  city  with  Americans  and  gave  to  their 
period  of  occupation  an  importance  which  will  cause  it  to  be 
recorded  in  the  history  of  the  city  as  an  episode  as  signifi- 
cant as  any  in  its  long  and  checkered  career.    Most  of  the 


44  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

schools  began  functioning  in  December,  19 17,  or  soon  there- 
after, and  continued  to  graduate  classes  of  increasing  size 
until  several  months  after  the  armistice,  sending  into  the 
fighting  army  a  large  proportion  of  the  rapidly  but  effectively 
trained  men  v^ho  as  officers  or  noncommissioned  officers  led 
American  troops  in  their  career  of  uninterrupted  victory. 

During  their  existence  of  approximately  a  year  and  a  half, 
the  Langres  schools  were  attended  by  a  grand  total  of  more 
than  45,000  officers  and  soldiers  —  95,000  including  the  at- 
tendants at  the  Gas  School  —  who,  in  addition  to  the  troops 
stationed  around  the  city  and  more  or  less  connected  with  the 
schools,  gave  to  the  place  the  appearance  of  an  American 
military  camp,  the  civilian  population  of  less  than  9,500  being 
quite  submerged  in  the  flood  of  olive  drab.  Nevertheless,  it 
was  the  quaint,  closely-packed  buildings  of  the  old  town  itself 
which  always  made  the  picturesque  background  to  the  crowds 
of  stalwart  young  soldiers  from  the  New  World  thronging 
the  streets  and  to  the  processions  of  automobiles  and  trucks, 
varying  from  the  big,  olive-drab  limousines  of  general  officers 
to  busy  little  Y.  M.  C.  A.  Fords  and  lumbering  "quad" 
trucks,  bizarre  with  the  hues  of  cubist  camouflage,  which 
often  gave  to  the  Rue  Diderot  the  aspect  of  a  business  thor- 
oughfare in  an  American  city. 

Along  the  Rue  Diderot,  in  fact,  were  scattered  most  of 
the  "cinema"  theaters,  cafes,  and  shops  which  attracted  the 
patronage  of  doughboys  at  leisure.  Few  Americans  who  were 
stationed  in  Langres  for  any  length  of  time  can  have  for- 
gotten the  Hotel  de  1' Europe,  below  the  College,  whose  long, 
narrow  dining-room,  gas  lighted  and  paneled  with  wood,  was 
the  nightly  gathering  place  of  a  throng  of  hungry  officers  and 
enlisted  men  who  possessed  the  price,  eager  for  a  meal  which 
would  vary  the  monotony  of  the  mess  hall.    At  that  hour  the 


Langres  the  Ancient  45 

tiny  office  was  always  occupied  by  a  post-office  line  of  wait- 
ing guests,  gazing  hungrily  into  the  smoke-blue  atmosphere 
of  the  dining-room  and  demanding  from  the  frenzied  wait- 
resses, une  place,  deux  places,  or  six  places,  as  the  case  might  be. 

But  the  little  square  surrounding  the  statue  of  Diderot 
was  the  center  most  frequented.  Perhaps  few  who  looked  at 
the  figure  of  the  great  encyclopedist,  gazing  benevolently 
down  the  street  from  his  tall  pedestal  and  quite  dominating 
the  surrounding  small  shops  and  cafes,  were  conscious  that 
this  statue  was  the  work  of  the  same  sculptor,  Frederic  Bar- 
tholdi,  who  created  the  Statue  of  Liberty  which  stands  in 
New  York  Harbor,  the  gift  of  the  French  Republic  to  the 
United  States. 

Farther  afield  among  the  obscure  streets  are  a  number  of 
interesting  places  never  seen,  probably,  by  numbers  of  Amer- 
icans owing  either  to  lack  of  time  or  inclination,  but  familiar 
to  many  others.  Undoubtedly  the  chief  of  these,  as  it  is  the 
most  conspicuous  building  of  the  city,  is  the  Cathedral  of 
St.  Mammes,  dedicated  to  the  third-century  martyr  who  was 
born  in  Caesarea  of  Cappadocia  and  who  became  the  first 
Bishop  of  Langres  and  later  the  patron  saint  of  the  city. 
This  building,  begun  in  the  twelfth  century,  represents  in  its 
interior  the  varjnng  but  happily  combined  forms  of  the  archi- 
tecture of  the  Transition  period.  Its  fagade  and  tall  twin 
towers  are  of  the  eighteenth  century  and  though  conspicuous 
are  not  considered  of  much  architectural  excellence.  But  they 
rise  above  a  church  whose  interior,  though  dark,  is  very 
impressive  with  its  six  bays  and  two  side  aisles  divided  by 
massive  square  piers  and  applied  columns  which  support  an 
upper  gallery,  or  triforium,  whose  smaller  columns  are  in  the 
Romanesque  style.  The  red  stone  of  the  columns  themselves 
contrast  becomingly  with  their  white  Gallo-Roman  capitals 


46  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

and  with  the  pink  shade  of  the  walls.  The  perspectives  with- 
in the  cathedral  are  impressive,  even  though  the  nave  has  a 
height  of  only  75  feet  and  there  are  many  objects  of  artistic 
interest  to  be  found  in  the  church  and  its  chapels.  Such 
are  the  beautiful  fourteenth-century  alabaster  figures  of  Notre 
Dame  la  Blanche,  "the  White  Lady;"  the  font  made  in  1549, 
the  sixteenth-century  tapestries  in  the  transept  chapels  de- 
picting the  life  and  martyrdom  of  St.  Mammes,  the  paint- 
ings attributed  to  Rubens  and  Correggio  in  the  Chapel  of 
Relics,  a  Renaissance  bas-relief  showing,  among  other  scenes, 
a  churchly  procession  walking  toward  the  walled  city  of  Lang- 
res,  and  a  number  of  statues  of  church  dignitaries  of  later 
periods. 

Not  far  from  the  Porte  des  Moulins,  St.  Martin's  Church, 
whose  tall  tower  is  almost  as  conspicuous  above  the  city  as 
are  those  of  the  cathedral,  although  it  contains  much  less  of 
interest  than  does  the  latter,  has  a  "  Crucifixion  "  by  Franqois 
Gentil  which  is  of  unusual  merit.  The  Museum,  housed  in 
a  side  street  in  the  old  Church  of  St.  Didier,  holds  many 
pieces  of  Gallo-Roman  statuary  and  sculpture  excavated  at 
different  times  in  and  around  Langres  as  well  as  specimens 
of  ancient  coins  and  metal-work,  particularly  Gallic  and  Gallo- 
Roman,  and  a  small,  but  valuable  collection  of  paintings, 
some  of  them  by  such  distinguished  artists  as  Luminals,  Tas- 
sel, Teniers,  Vanloo,  and  Corot. 

There  are  numerous  ancient  houses  in  Langres  having 
quaint  and  beautiful  stone-  and  woodwork  outside  and  much 
of  interest  within,  the  northern  part  of  the  city  on  the  streets 
leading  to  the  ramparts  being  particularly  rich  in  such  sou- 
venirs of  the  past.  Notable  among  them  is  the  Renaissance 
house  near  the  Museum  which  is  now  used  as  a  residence 
by  the  Bishop  of  Langres.     In  an  ancient  dwelling  on  a  side 


Langres  the  Ancient  47 

street  north  of  the  cathedral  one  may  pass  through  an  incon- 
spicuous doorway  and  a  long,  dark  passage  which  comes 
eventually  to  a  courtyard  in  which  stands  a  venerable  well 
with  a  balustraded  stone  wall  behind  it.  Both  the  wall  and 
the  massive  well  curb  are  rich  with  carving,  weathered  faint 
by  the  passing  centuries,  for  both  are  said  to  be  relics  of  the 
Gallo-Roman  epoch.  This  well  is  still  in  use  today  and  as 
it  was  utilized  to  some  extent  by  American  troops  in  the  city 
it  may  well  be  that  against  that  same  curb  have  leaned  Roman 
soldiers  wearing  the  cuirass  of  the  legions  and  soldiers  in 
the  flannel  shirts  and  woolen  breeches  of  the  United  States 
service. 

In  many  such  reflections  one  may  indulge  in  this  city,  old 
when  Christ  was  upon  earth  and  still  virile  today  although 
as  many  centuries  have  passed  over  it  as  years  over  some 
thriving  cities  of  America.  May  it  be  that  the  presence  with- 
in her  borders  of  the  soldiers  from  overseas  has  inaugurated 
for  Langres  a  period  of  prosperity  and  peace  transcending 
any  that  she  has  enjoyed  in  her  long  and  often  tempestuous 
past. 


CHAPTER  IV 

PAST  BLUE  BASSIGNY  HILLS 

THERE  is  a  pleasant  patchwork  carpet  of  many-tinted 
fields  rolling  away  toward  the  river  from  the  steep 
slopes  below  the  city  as  one  leaves  Langres  through  the  Fau- 
bourg des  Franchises  by  the  road  that  curves  around  the  foot 
of  the  battlements.  Beneath  great  trees  that  mingle  their 
branches  over  it  the  highway  runs,  while  above  the  treetops 
on  the  left  rise  the  great  gray  walls  of  the  Tower  Piquante, 
the  Tower  Longe-Porte,  and  the  Tower  St.  Jean,  with  the 
massive  masonry  of  the  ancient  curtains  between  them.  The 
road,"  soon  joining  the  National  highway,  passes  the  peak  of 
Les  Fourches,  the  dome  of  its  shrine  just  visible  above  the 
trees  surrounding  it,  and  comes  directly  to  Langres-Marne, 
the  suburb  containing  the  railroad  yards  and  the  chief  sta- 
tion of  Langres,  connected  with  the  city  by  a  rack-and-pinion 
railway  to  the  top  of  the  plateau.  At  the  lower  end  of  the 
yards  the  slender  thread  of  the  Marne  is  spanned  by  a  stone 
bridge  beneath  which,  in  the  marshy  ground  below,  cows 
graze  peacefully  among  clusters  of  flowering  bushes,  indif- 
ferent to  the  puffing  locomotives  a  few  yards  away.  The 
National  Road  stretches  on  through  the  hamlet  of  Pont-de- 
Marne  and  thence  northeast  toward  Montigny-le-Roi.  But 
a  branch  road  goes  north  up  the  well-tilled  hillside  until  across 
the  top  of  the  plateau  one  sees  the  clustering  trees  beneath 
which  the  gardens  and  cottages  of  Champigny  drowse  through 
the  summer  days. 

Around  Champigny  breathe  traditions  almost  as  venerable 
as  those  of  Langres.  Across  the  breezy  upland  fields,  belong- 
ing to  the  commune,   four  Roman  roads  intersect  and  the 

48 


Past  Blue  Bassigny  Hills  49 

quantities  of  marble  sculpture,  pottery,  and  Roman  coins  which 
have  been  unearthed  there  are  a  measure  of  the  density  of 
Roman  population  which  once  dwelt  in  the  vicinity  and  which 
was  followed  by  the  people  of  the  Gallo-Roman  period,  in 
every  way  less  cultured  than  their  predecessors  as  attested 
by  the  massive,  but  comparatively  crude,  stone  sarcophagi  in 
which  they  buried  their  dead,  numbers  of  which  have  been 
discovered  near  Champigny.  In  the  incessant  wars  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  Champigny  like  most  of  the  villages  of 
northeastern  France,  suffered  keenly  and  it  was  burnt  to  the 
ground  in  1639  by  Croats  in  the  employ  of  Charles  iv,  Duke 
of  Lorraine.  His  pillaging  troops  went  back  to  Germany  that 
autumn  "with  more  cattle  than  soldiers  and  purses  full,"  both 
cattle  and  money,  of  course,  having  been  stolen  from  the 
inhabitants  of  invaded  France.  The  people  of  Champigny, 
indeed,  were  reduced  to  such  straits  during  these  years  that 
a  historian  of  the  Haute-Marne,  M.  Carnandet,  declares  that 
they  were  forced  "to  yoke  themselves  to  their  own  ploughs, 
having  neither  cattle  nor  horses  to  work." 

The  peaceful  village  of  today  gives  little  evidence  of  such 
periods  of  anguish  and  its  square  church  tower  surmounting 
a  low  cruciform  church  looks  out  above  the  dense  evergreens 
which  surround  it  across  as  placid  a  countryside  as  can  be 
met  with  anywhere.  Beneath  the  dense  shade  of  these  ever- 
greens at  the  side  of  the  church  one  will  find  on  warm  summer 
afternoons  a  group  of  the  village  women  seated  comfortably 
with  their  sewing  and  mending,  watching  with  contented 
curiosity  the  occasional  wagon  or  automobile  which  disturbs 
the  quiet  of  the  deserted  street.  Cottages  with  well-trimmed 
vines  hanging  over  doors  and  windows  define  this  street  until 
it  runs  out  again  into  the  country  road  which,  after  crossing 
a  deep  ravine,  wanders  on  back  to  the  valley  of  the  Marne 


50  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

and  shortly  into  the  next  village  on  the  right  bank,  Jorquenay. 

The  length  of  Jorquenay's  main  street  lies  strung  like  a 
necklace  along  a  curving  bend  of  the  canal,  in  whose  still, 
blue  bosom  the  gray  old  houses  and  the  hillside  behind,  green 
and  purple  with  waving  alfalfa,  and  the  church  halfway  up 
the  slope,  are  reflected  as  in  a  mirror.  The  church,  of  course, 
has  its  history,  the  choir  of  the  structure  dating  from  the 
thirteenth  century  while  within  the  quiet  interior  is  an  archaic 
statue  of  the  Virgin  and  Child  which  was  wrought  in  the  same 
epoch. 

Humes,  the  next  village  down  river,  is  reached  by  cross- 
ing the  Marne  and  the  canal  at  Jorquenay,  the  country  road 
re-entering  the  Langres-Chaumont  National  highway  before 
the  latter  comes  into  the  long  main  street  of  the  village. 
Humes  was  a  busy  place  in  191 8,  for  not  only  was  it  a  billet 
and  barracks  town  for  American  troops  of  the  Seventh  Train- 
ing Area  and  the  seat  of  Camp  Hospital  7,  but  it  lay  beside 
the  wide,  well-paved  road  between  American  General  Head- 
quarters at  Chaumont  and  the  Army  Schools  at  Langres,  a 
road  whose  wayside  trees  were  usually  white  with  the  dust 
thrown  up  by  passing  convoys  of  trucks  or  hurrying  auto- 
mobiles. To  the  parched  throat  of  many  a  doughboy  and 
truck  driver  the  brasserie  de  Humes,  conspicuously  located 
beside  the  street,  contributed  an  innocent,  but  soothing,  brown 
liquid  whose  flavor  improved  materially  some  months  after 
the  armistice  but  which,  at  all  times,  gave  the  village  among 
the  Americans  in  the  vicinity  of  Langres  a  distinction  other- 
wise unwarranted  by  its  size. 

Humes  is,  in  fact,  much  smaller  than  the  next  village  of 
any  consequence  northward  along  the  road  to  Chaumont,  this 
being  Rolampont,  the  largest  place  lying  between  the  two 
cities  of  the  upper  Haute-Marne.     Rolampont  lies  on  both 


Past  Blue  Bassigny  Hills  51 

banks  of  the  Marne,  whose  stream  is  steadily  growing  larger 
from  the  addition  of  rivulets  coming  down  from  the  wood- 
lands back  among  the  hills.  The  very  name  of  Rolampont 
has  in  it  the  breath  of  romance,  for  tradition  says  that  it  was 
originally  "  Roland  Pont "  or  Roland's  Bridge,  although  no 
other  fragment  of  legend  connects  the  locality  with  Char- 
lemagne's redoubtable  paladin.  The  bridge  now  spanning  the 
river  is  one  of  those  solid,  graceful  stone  structures  so  usual 
in  France,  whose  well-proportioned  arches  frame  charming 
vistas  of  rounded  trees  bending  above  the  river's  edge  and 
long  red  tile  roofs  reflected  in  the  rippled  waters. 

A  road  running  off  northeast  comes,  just  beyond  the  edge 
of  that  part  of  the  village  which  lies  east  of  the  river,  to 
broad  fields  of  grain  and  alfalfa  which  sweep  up  and  away 
in  velvety  slopes  to  the  high,  rounded  summit  of  a  great  hill 
fringed  with  forest  trees  between  whose  branches  can  be 
caught  glimpses  of  the  grim  walls  of  Fort  de  St.  Menge,  one 
of  the  far  outlying  defenses  of  the  Langres  enceinte.  In 
centuries  long  past  a  Roman  fort  crowned  this  hill,  guarding 
the  roads  from  Langres  to  Nasium,  near  Bar-le-Duc.  Legend 
says  that  in  Roman  times  more  than  one  battle  was  fought 
in  this  vicinity  between  the  soldiers  of  the  empire  and  the 
barbarians  from  beyond  the  Rhine,  and  the  peasants  of  the 
neighborhood  cherish  a  superstition  that  if  one  walks  abroad 
on  some  nights  in  these  upland  fields  about  the  hill  of  Fort 
de  St.  Menge  he  will  see  at  certain  hours  in  the  light  of  the 
moon  shadowy  warriors  on  horseback,  headless  but  clad  all 
in  armor  and  with  horses  barbed  and  richly  caparisoned. 

Rolampont  itself  seems  to  have  been  for  ages  the  site  of 
a  bridge  and  a  point  of  some  importance  on  the  medieval 
highways.  The  little  knoll  on  the  west  side  of  the  river  now 
occupied  by  the  church  was  formerly  the  site  of  a  chateau 


52  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

fort  now  totally  vanished.  It  was  doubtless  in  this  building 
that  King  Charles  ix  had  his  lodging  when,  in  the  seven- 
teenth century,  he  sojourned  at  Rolampont  and  left  on  record 
his  admiration  for  the  place  in  the  phrase,  "the  beautiful  vil- 
lage." King  Stanislaus  i  of  Poland  likewise  once  visited 
there,  resting  at  the  presbytery,  while  the  erudite  Jesuit, 
Delecey  de  Changey,  author  of  the  Lanterne  Encyclopedique, 
retired  to  the  sylvan  quiet  of  Rolampont  for  the  pursuit  of 
his  literary  labors. 

In  February,  191 8,  the  village  was  the  headquarters  of 
the  Forty-second  American  Division,  the  "  Rainbow,"  and 
the  billeting  place  of  the  One  hundred  and  Sixty-eighth  In- 
fantry regiment  of  that  division.  Probably  in  the  chill,  foggy 
days  of  winter  it  did  not  seem  very  attractive  to  the  Iowa 
boys,  but  in  summer  it  certainly  still  justifies  King  Charles' 
phrase,  for  it  is  a  pretty  spot  between  the  wooded  hills  on 
either  hand  with  the  Marne  whispering  along  the  edges  of  the 
garden  walls  and  beneath  the  shade  of  bordering  orchards. 
The  church,  hidden  deep  among  old  trees,  is  of  no  great 
interest  historically  despite  its  massive  Romanesque  interior 
where  six  huge  square  columns  bear  up  the  groined  roof  of 
nave  and  transept. 

Close  beside  the  church  stands  the  village  school,  a  large 
stone  building  but  not,  apparently,  any  too  large  for  the 
accommodation  of  the  many  youngsters,  both  boys  and  girls, 
who  swarm  out  of  it  at  the  end  of  the  day's  session.  In 
Rolampont  no  more  than  in  most  other  rural  communities 
is  there  any  evidence  of  the  "race  suicide"  in  France  of 
which  so  much  has  been  written.  In  such  communities  the 
children  seem  as  numerous  as  in  other  countries  and  cer- 
tainly very  attractive  children  they  are;  healthy,  active,  very 
often  good  looking  and  nearly  always  neatly  dressed,  while 


i«- 


.St- 


»ii«iiu'BiililtWWil 


--:.-^4 


The  very  name  of  Rolampont  has  in  it  the  breath  of  romance 

[Page  51] 


Past  Blue  Bassigny  Hills  53 

their  uniform  politeness  and  good  breeding  are  something  to 
make  other  nations  envious.  It  is  easy  to  beHeve  that  the 
American  soldiers  who,  during  the  war  and  for  six  months 
thereafter,  thronged  Rolampont  and  scores  of  other  villages 
of  its  type  in  northeastern  France,  found  life  in  these  out-of- 
the-way  places  rendered  more  endurable  by  the  presence  of 
the  children  and  that  many  a  doughboy  when  he  departed  on 
his  long  trail  toward  the  sunset,  left  behind  him  small  friends, 
the  thought  of  whom  will  sweeten  recollections  of  France 
through  all  future  years. 

Undoubtedly  to  the  children  themselves  the  presence  of 
these  stalwart  Americans  was,  in  general,  a  broadening  expe- 
rience. It  is  altogether  probable  that  before  the  war  an  Amer- 
ican had  never  been  seen  in  Rolampont,  for  this  section  of 
France  was  far  removed  from  the  beaten  paths  of  tourists. 
To  be  sure,  everywhere  in  France  the  younger  generation 
learned  in  school  something  of  the  former  French  colonies  in 
America  and  a  good  deal  about  the  American  Revolution. 
They  knew  and  revered  the  names  of  their  fellow-countryman, 
Lafayette,  of  Benjamin  Franklin  and  particularly  that  of 
George  Washington,  and  when  they  visited  Paris,  as  everyone 
in  France  does,  sooner  or  later,  they  found  there  streets  named 
for  these  men,  and  statues  of  them  and  other  Americans  in 
the  public  places  and  probably  took  an  especially  lively  interest 
in  the  fine  equestrian  statue  of  Washington,  in  the  central 
court  of  the  Palace  of  the  Louvre,  which  was  presented  to 
France  by  the  school  children  of  America. 

Yet  such  knowledge,  though  impressive,  still  left  America 
and  Americans  rather  vague  and  unreal.  And  then  suddenly 
there  appeared  among  them,  almost  overnight,  hundreds, 
thousands,  a  perfect  deluge  of  Americans,  bringing  the  very 
substance  of  the  shadowy  New  World  into  the  midst  of  the 


54  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

drowsy  corners  of  olden  France.  Young,  robust,  bubbling 
over  with  good  spirits,  full  of  startling  new  ways  of  doing 
things,  knocking  together  big,  ugly  frame  barracks  and  stables 
and  shops  and  "  Y"  huts  in  the  most  unexpected  places,  push- 
ing themselves  with  insatiable  inquisitiveness  into  every  nook 
and  corner,  often  irreverent  of  all  the  ancient  things  about 
them,  but  always  frankly  curious  concerning  them,  imme- 
diately making  friends  or  enemies  of  everybody  in  the  country- 
side, spending  money  like  princes,  drinking  all  the  liquor, 
mild  or  powerful,  accumulated  in  the  neighborhood  and  fill- 
ing village  streets  and  country  roads  with  the  clatter  and  dust 
of  trucks  and  buzzing  motorcycles  and  the  songs  and  pro- 
fanity and  laughter  and  banter  of  the  land  that  lay  the  other 
side  of  Miss  Liberty,  they  fairly  submerged  the  country  in 
olive  drab  and  took  possession  of  it. 

Some  of  the  French  youngsters,  no  doubt,  chumming  with 
these  fascinating  new  arrivals,  as  they  very  promptly  did,  on 
the  streets  and  in  the  shops  and  dooryards  and  simple  village 
homes,  fell  in  with  the  bad  specimens  of  young  American 
manhood  who,  fortunately,  were  in  a  decided  minority  among 
our  troops,  and  learned  more  evil  than  good  of  America.  But 
the  most  of  them,  we  may  believe,  were  broadened  and  bet- 
tered by  that  association  and  as  they  grow  older  will  be  able 
to  recall  those  noisy,  big-hearted  visitors  of  a  few  months 
among  them  with  the  affection  and  something  of  the  under- 
standing which  are  the  bed-rock  basis  of  lasting  international 
sympathy  and  friendliness.  An  evidence  of  this  sentiment 
is  the  almost  reverential  care  with  which  the  children,  as  well 
as  the  older  people,  of  Rolampont  and  every  other  American 
billet  village  along  the  Marne,  guard  the  weather-beaten 
wooden  signs  left  by  the  Americans  on  house  doors  and  street 
corners;    signs    whose    fading    stenciled    legends    announce. 


Past  Blue  Bassigny  Hills  55 

"Town   Major,"   "Headquarters   Infantry,"   "Do   not 

drink  this  water.  For  washing  only,"  etc.  The  sentiment 
which  will  preserve  such  poor  relics  is  written  on  the  hearts 
entertaining  it  so  deeply  that  it  will  long  outlive  the  relics 
themselves. 

The  sharply  eroded  valley  of  the  Marne  presents  many 
changing  aspects  of  quiet  beauty  as  one  follows  the  shady 
road  on  past  Vesaignes  and  Marnay,  the  latter  with  a  pure 
Gothic  church,  to  the  railway  junction  of  Foulain,  whence  a 
branch  line  of  the  Chemin  de  Per  de  I'Est  winds  oft"  up  the 
valley  of  the  Traire  River  to  Nogent-en-Bassigny,  a  manu- 
facturing town  noted  for  its  cutlery.  It  will  also  be  remem- 
bered by  a  host  of  Americans  as  the  seat  of  the  Advance 
Section,  Services  of  Supply,  until  October,  1918,  and  after 
that  as  the  headquarters  of  the  Fifth  Army  Corps,  under 
Major  General  Charles  P.  Summerall. 

The  narrow  gauge  branch  line  from  Foulain  is  hidden 
almost  like  a  forest  trail  in  the  narrow  valley  of  the  small 
watercourse  and  its  first  station,  Poulangy,  is  unseen  until 
one  is  almost  upon  it.  It  is  itself  the  site  of  several  factories 
but  they  have  not  spoiled  the  rustic  appearance  of  its  clamber- 
ing streets,  nor  detracted  from  the  freshness  of  the  steep 
hillside  behind  it  which,  in  August,  is  rich  with  tiny  sweet 
wild  strawberries  growing  sheltered  from  the  sun  beneath  a 
profusion  of  leaves.  There  formerly  existed  at  Poulangy  an 
abbey  for  women  established  by  the  Abbess  Ste.  Salaberge 
before  the  year  688  and  successively  presided  over  in  the  early 
part  of  the  twelfth  century  by  the  Abbesses  Ste.  Adeline  and 
Ste.  Asceline,  the  nearest  relatives  of  St.  Bernard.  Some  quaint 
stories  are  preserved  concerning  the  administration  of  justice  in 
Poulangy  in  earlier  days.  It  is  related,  for  instance,  that  on  one 
occasion  -x  local  official  caused  a  sow  to  be  legally  executed 
5 


56  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

for  having  killed  an  infant.  At  another  time  when  a  man 
whose  life  was  valued  by  the  villagers  had,  nevertheless,  been 
condemned  to  death  for  some  crime,  real  or  alleged,  the  dif- 
ficulty was  solved  very  simply  by  executing  him  with  all  legal 
solemnity  —  in  effigy. 

Beyond  Foulain  a  long  bend  of  the  Marne  and  the  ever- 
accompanying  canal  beside  it  embraces  the  scattered  dwellings 
of  Luzy  and  alike  the  more  compact  group  of  Verbiesles. 
From  the  broad  Marne  bridges  leading  over  to  them,  the  two 
villages  show  little  more  than  their  red  roofs  and  the  spires 
of  their  churches  above  the  billowed  green  of  roadside  trees 
and  orchards.  On  the  west  side  of  the  river  are  great  hill- 
sides densely  clothed  with  the  forests  of  the  Bois  Millet  and 
the  Bois  de  la  Vendue  which  were  the  scene,  in  1918,  of  some 
of  the  extensive  work  of  the  American  Forestry  Department 
Engineers,  whose  cozy  home  "  lumbering  camp  "  was  at  Luzy, 
a  very  different  center  of  operations  from  the  log  shacks 
of  the  Wisconsin  or  the  Oregon  woods.  These  hillsides  rise 
almost  sheer  from  the  river,  forming  the  eastern  wall  of  the 
narrow  watershed  between  the  valleys  of  the  Marne  and  the 
Suize,  of  which  the  latter,  rising  southwest  of  Langres,  nearly 
parallels  the  Marne  at  a  distance  of  a  few  kilometers  all  the 
way  to  Chaumont. 

The  village  church  of  Luzy  is  a  charming  example  of 
thirteenth-century  architecture  with  a  Romanesque  altar.  It 
was  for  a  long  time  in  olden  days  a  place  of  pilgrimage 
because  it  contains  the  relics  of  St.  Evrard,  the  patron  of 
the  village.  He  was  a  hermit  of  the  ninth  century  whose 
place  of  solitude  was  the  long-since  vanished  Priory  of  Moi- 
ran,  in  the  old  forest  adjacent  to  Luzy.  The  chateau  of 
Luzy  which,  except  for  traces  of  the  deep  moats,  disappeared 
centuries  ago  as  completely  as  St.  Evrard's  retreat,  was  built 


Past  Blue  Bassigny  Hills  57 

by  a  Bishop  of  Langres  and  held  under  him  at  one  time  in 
the  fourteenth  century  by  one  Charles  d'Escars,  Baron  of 
Luzy.  It  must  have  been  a  noble  structure  in  its  day  for 
its  walls  were  flanked  by  nine  towers. 

The  ancient,  but  unimportant,  annals  of  Verbiesles  also 
run  back  for  nearly  a  thousand  years  but  its  chief  claim  to 
a  place  in  the  history  of  France  is  the  fact  that  within  its 
communal  precincts  lie  the  chateau  and  park  of  Val-des- 
Ecoliers.  That  claim  applies  as  well  to  American  history 
for  it  did  not  arise  until  the  early  summer  of  19 18,  when  the 
Commander-in-Chief  of  the  American  Expeditionary  Forces, 
General  John  J.  Pershing,  took  this  lovely  and  storied  estate, 
four  kilometers  southeast  of  Chaumont,  as  his  place  of  resi- 
dence, continuing  to  occupy  it  for  more  than  a  year,  until  the 
American  General  Headquarters  at  Chaumont  was  closed  in 
July,  1919. 

If  one  first  approaches  the  Chateau  du  Val-des-Ecoliers 
from  the  Langres-Chaumont  highroad  it  is  disclosed  to  him 
as  he  swings  around  a  high  shoulder  of  hill,  the  white  walls 
and  mansard  roof  of  the  chateau  gleaming  between  the  grace- 
ful trees  which  dot  the  broad  park  all  around  it.  In  this 
portion  of  its  course  the  valley  of  the  Marne  has  spread  to 
a  greater  amplitude.  Beyond  the  chateau,  the  river  and  the 
blue  canal,  their  waters  peeping  here  and  there  between  the 
marching  rows  of  poplars,  clasp  the  emerald  lawns  of  the 
park,  while  still  beyond  its  acres  stretch  the  sunlit  meadows, 
dotted  in  midsummer  with  fragrant  cocks  of  hay  which  men 
and  girls  with  broad-tined  forks,  like  figures  out  of  a  Millet 
painting,  are  pitching  up  into  the  racks  of  great  two-wheeled 
carts.  Off  over  the  meadows,  sheer  above  the  poplar  trees 
skirting  the  river  and  the  canal,  stand  the  semicircular  cliffs 
of  the  Cote  Bault  which  rise  above  Chamarandes  and  beyond 


58  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

them,  wind-swept  uplands  of  wheat  and  alfalfa  interspersed 
with  stretches  of  woods,  with  the  low-spreading  barracks  of 
Hanlin  Field,  the  American  Gas  Defense  School,  against  the 
horizon  to  the  northeast  and  the  roofs  and  spires  of  Chau- 
mont  rising  out  of  billows  of  treetops  to  the  north.  It  is 
a  scene  of  rustic  loveliness  and  peace  whose  equal  is  seldom 
to  be  seen  in  any  land. 

As  one  descends  by  winding  driveways  into  the  cool 
shadows  of  the  park,  he  is  inclined  to  think  less  of  soldiers 
and  the  clamor  of  war  than  of  the  sober  monks  who  first 
inhabited  this  quiet  spot  and  he  half  expects  to  see,  pacing 
beneath  the  trees,  some  of  the  black-gowned  figures  who, 
long  ago,  made  this  a  place  of  repute  throughout  France.  For 
this  religious  house  was  founded  in  121 1  under  the  discipline 
of  the  Order  of  St.  Augustine,  as  a  retreat  for  study  and  a 
foundation  of  learning  by  four  doctors  of  the  University 
of  Paris.  In  the  course  of  time  it  became  famous  by  reason 
of  the  treasures  of  art  and  science  which  were  gradually 
accumulated  within  its  handsome  buildings.  Several  of  its 
abbots  were  men  of  scholarly  distinction  in  their  day  and  the 
house  rested  in  1637  under  the  control  of  the  brotherhood 
of  the  Church  of  St.  Genevieve  of  Paris. 

But  the  religious  orders  have  been  gone  from  the  Val- 
des-Ecoliers  for  many  decades  past  and  although  an  ancient 
round  stone  tower,  completely  cloaked  in  glistening  ivy, 
stands  near  one  end  of  the  chateau  as  a  reminder  of  the 
former  monastic  buildings,  the  chateau  itself  is  a  much  more 
modern  structure.  It  was  designed  by  Jean-Baptiste  Bouchar- 
don,  the  distinguished  architect  and  sculptor  of  Chaumont 
who  did  much  to  beautify  the  buildings  of  that  city  during 
the  latter  half  of  the  seventeenth  century.  The  chateau,  both 
within  and  without,  is  a  fine  example  of  the  dignified  and 


Past  Blue  Bassigny  Hills  59 

spacious  architecture  of  the  period  of  Louis  xiv  and  among 
its  elegant  furnishings  are  many  priceless  souvenirs  of  the 
ancient  days  of  the  Val-des-Ecoliers. 

It  was  to  this  restful  and  homelike  retreat,  whose  very 
atmosphere  seems  to  have  acquired  through  the  centuries  a 
quality  of  calm  in  which  petty  and  transitory  things  are 
reduced  to  their  true  proportions,  leaving  the  mind  strength- 
ened for  the  solution  of  greater  problems,  that  the  American 
Commander-in-Chief  was  wont  to  come  from  the  busy  Gen- 
eral Headquarters'  offices  in  Damremont  Barracks,  or  from 
still  more  strenuous  days  spent  near  the  front  of  his  fighting 
divisions  in  the  Marne,  or  the  Vesle  sectors,  the  St.  Mihiel 
Salient,  or  among  the  shell-torn  hills  of  the  Meuse-Argonne. 
In  the  summer  or  autumn  of  19 18,  if  one  passed  in  the  twi- 
light on  the  highroad  leading  down  from  Chaumont  an  olive- 
drab  limousine  speeding  southward,  with  a  red  oblong  bearing 
four  white  stars  on  the  windshield  and  the  tall,  rigid  figure 
of  a  man  sitting  bolt  upright  in  its  rear  seat,  one  could  hope 
that  the  "  C-in-C  "  was  going  to  have,  at  last,  a  good  night's 
rest  at  the  Chateau  du  Val-des-Ecoliers.  But  that  was  by 
no  means  certain  for  often  there  were  high  officers  of  the 
Allied  armies,  American,  French,  or  British,  gathered  for 
lengthy  conferences  at  the  chateau.  Or,  again,  the  American 
chieftain  might  be  leaving  in  the  small  hours  of  the  morning 
for  a  drive  of  60  or  70  miles  to  some  point  close  behind  the 
battle  front,  or  a  still  longer  drive  to  General  Petain's  head- 
quarters at  Provins  or  those  of  Marshal  Foch  at  Senlis. 

After  the  armistice,  when  the  distinguished  personages  of 
the  Allied  countries,  military,  political,  and  diplomatic,  found 
time  for  making  the  social  acquaintance  with  one  another 
which  had  been  denied  them  in  the  feverishly  active  days 
of  the  war,  General  Pershing's  residence  frequently  became 


6o  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

the  scene  of  house  parties  among  whose  members  were  men 
famous  the  world  over.  At  different  times  there  were  enter- 
tained there  President  and  Mrs.  Wilson,  President  and  Ma- 
dame Poincare,  King  Albert  and  Queen  Elizabeth  of  Belgium,- 
Premier  Clemenceau,  Marshal  Foch,  Marshal  Haig,  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  Mr.  Baker,  American  Secretary  of  War, 
and  Marshal  Petain.  In  short,  during  the  eventful  year  in 
which  it  was  occupied  by  General  Pershing,  the  Chateau  du 
Val-des-Ecoliers  earned  for  itself  a  place  in  our  history  which 
will  doubtless  cause  it  to  be  known  in  future  beside  the  old 
farmhouse  overlooking  the  Schuylkill  River  which  was  Wash- 
ington's headquarters  at  Valley  Forge  and  the  little  Leister 
House  on  the  Taneytown  Road  whence  General  Meade  di- 
rected the  Army  of  the  Potomac  in  the  battle  of  Gettysburg. 

Excepting  for  the  double  row  of  trees  bordering  the  broad 
highway  itself,  the  road  to  Chaumont,  after  climbing  up  from 
the  river  in  the  Val-des-Ecoliers,  follows  the  crest  of  a  plateau 
which  is  open  to  the  sun  and  wind.  To  its  left  lies  the  nar- 
row valley  of  the  Suize,  intimately  charming  with  its  little 
fields  and  meadows  bounded  on  one  side  by  the  wooded  hills 
and  on  the  other  by  the  circuitous  course  of  the  small  stream, 
now  gliding  furtively  between  beds  of  water  grass  and  reeds 
and  rows  of  bushy  basket  poplars  and  again  tumbling  gaily 
over  a  small  dam  as  it  pursues  its  way  to  its  union  with  the 
Marne  just  north  of  Chaumont.  To  its  right  lies  the  broader 
valley  of  the  Marne  itself,  with  the  red  roofs  of  Chamarandes 
and  Choignes  glistening  between  the  trees  and  here  and  there 
a  factory  chimney  rising  above  them. 

Skirting  the  widespread  brick  barracks  of  the  Quartier 
d'Artillerie,  turned  over  to  the  Americans  and  occupied  dur- 
ing the  war  by  Roosevelt  Base  Hospital  15,  the  country  road 
begins  to  assume  the  character  of  a  street  as  it  passes  the 


,,^^^*xx^;^- 


^',j„  L,ii-_-054^iy'    ' 


Damremont   Barracks,   Chaumont,  American   General 

Headquarters 

[Paffe  59] 


.>iK.-'l'%'^, 


Chamii  de  Mars  and  the  Chateau  Gloriette,  Chaumont 

[Page  90] 


Past  Blue  Bassigny  Hills  6 1 

Octroi  (town  tollhouse)  and  the  outlying  cafes  and  houses 
of  the  Faubourg  des  Langres  and  then,  swinging  into  the 
Avenue  de  la  Republique,  crosses  the  street-wide  bridge  over 
the  railroad  tracks,  with  the  leafy  promenades  of  the  Boule- 
vard Thiers  reaching  away  on  either  hand,  and  finds  itself 
at  last  in  Chaumont  by  way  of  the  Rue  de  Chamarandes 
which  leads  directly,  past  the  City  Market  and  sundry  shops 
and  side  streets,  into  the  angular  center  of  the  city,  scene 
of  weekly  markets  and  annual  fairs,  of  public  gatherings, 
and  of  historic  ceremonies  as  well  today  as  for  almost  count- 
less generations  past,  the  Place  de  I'Hotel  de  Ville. 


CHAPTER  V 

CHAUMONT-EN-BASSIGNY 

THE  etymologists  disagree  concerning  the  origin  of  the 
name,  Chaumont,  and  in  disagreeing  they  have  arrived, 
as  occurs  frequently  with  both  etymologists  and  doctors,  at 
directly  opposite  conclusions.  One  group  declares  that  it  is 
derived  from  two  Celtic  words :  chad,  meaning  wood  and  mon, 
meaning  mountain ;  hence,  wooded  mountain.  The  other  group 
avows  that  it  is  a  corruption  of  the  Latin,  calvus  mons,  mean- 
ing bald  mountain.  One  can  take  his  choice  but,  at  all  events, 
Chaumont  is  not  bald  today  for,  excepting  in  the  heart  of 
the  business  streets,  it  is  a  riot  of  shady  boulevards  and  parks 
and  private  gardens,  from  the  scattered  cottages  of  the  south- 
ern suburbs  right  up  to  the  bluff  hill  crest  of  Chaumont  le 
Bois,  3  kilometers  farther  north  where  formerly  old  Fort 
Lambert  thrust  its  frowning  bastions  out  over  the  placid 
Marne,  on  the  last  promontory  of  the  watershed  between 
that  river  and  the  Suize. 

Measured  by  Langres,  Chaumont  is  a  modern  town  for 
its  recorded  history  dates  only  from  the  year  940,  although 
it  was  mentioned  once  in  earlier  chronicles  as  the  scene  of 
the  martyrdom  of  the  Christian  virgins,  Aragone  and  Oli- 
varia,  who  were  murdered  by  Attila's  Huns  about  the  year 
450.  Both  on  the  hill  and  in  the  adjacent  valleys  have  been 
found  the  remains  of  Roman  baths  and  Gallo-Roman  tombs, 
household  utensils,  etc.,  some  of  which  are  preserved  in  the 
Museum  of  Chaumont.  But  the  present  town  is  entirely  of 
feudal  origin,  having  grown  up  around  the  chateau  of  the 
Counts  of  Champagne  which  stood  on  the  great  hill  project- 

62 


Chaumont-en-Bassigny  63 


ing  like  the  prow  of  a  ship  from  the  western  edge  of  the  city 
into  the  valley  of  the  Suize. 

The  territory  upon  which  Chaumont  stands  belonged  orig- 
inally to  the  Counts  of  Bassigny  and  of  Bologne.  One  of 
them,  Geoffroy,  was  created  the  first  Count  of  Champagne 
by  Hugh  Capet  when  that  founder  of  the  Capetian  dynasty, 
in  order  to  secure  the  greatest  possible  number  of  partisans, 
gave  to  his  chief  vassals  as  hereditary  possessions  the  ter- 
ritories which  they  were  guarding  for  the  crown.  This 
Geoffroy  i  of  Champagne  built  the  first  massive  parts  of  the 
chateau,  which  was  greatly  enlarged  in  later  years  and  which 
came  to  be  known  as  the  Chateau  Haute feuille.  It  was  not 
until  the  twelfth  century  that  Chaumont  itself  began  to  as- 
sume any  importance,  after  the  people  of  the  town  in  1190 
had  revolted  and  extracted  from  their  count,  Henry  11,  a 
charter  granting  them  certain  privileges.  A  few  years  later 
another  count,  Thibaut  iv,  after  having  followed  the  good 
King  Louis  ix  (St.  Louis),  on  the  Sixth  Crusade,  himself 
revolted  and  became  the  leader  of  a  league  against  the  royal 
authority.  After  a  time  he  surrendered  to  the  king  and  his 
late  allies,  in  revenge,  ravaged  his  territories  and  would  have 
taken  and  pillaged  Chaumont  had  a  royal  army  not  come  to 
its  rescue. 

Although  it  escaped  at  that  time,  Chaumont  in  later  years 
suffered  frequently  from  the  ravages  both  of  armed  foes 
and  of  the  terrible  plagues  which  often  swept  Europe  in  the 
Middle  Ages.  It  was  captured  and  sacked  several  times  dur- 
ing those  long  decades  of  unspeakable  wretchedness  for 
France,  the  Hundred  Years'  War  (1337-1453)-  The  revolt- 
ing peasants  of  the  "Jacquerie"  took  it  in  1358  while 
engaged  in  their  hopeless  struggle  against  the  cruel  and 
oppressive  nobility.     Again  about   1440   bands    of    brigands 


64  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 


called  ecorchciirs  (flayers)  roamed  at  will  over  France  and 
Belgium,  killing  cattle  and  stripping  the  clothes  from  their 
human  victims.  Some  of  them  took  Chaumont  and  for  some 
time  used  it  as  a  base  of  operations  from  which  marauding 
expeditions  went  forth  into  the  surrounding  country,  com- 
mitting frightful  excesses,  strewing  the  roads  with  corpses 
and  causing  the  villages  to  be  abandoned  and  the  farms  to 
remain  uncultivated  until  a  famine  resulted,  followed  by  a 
pestilence  which  forced  the  outlaws  to  abandon  the  town. 
Another  plague  decimated  the  place  in  1500,  during  the  Reli- 
gious Wars.  Chaumont  was  a  center  of  the  Guises,  leaders 
of  the  Catholic  party,  and  it  was  attacked  in  1523  by  a  Ger- 
man army  of  12,000  men  under  the  Count  of  Fiirstenberg. 
He  was,  however,  eventually  driven  from  the  siege  and  pur- 
sued across  the  Meuse  by  the  army  of  the  Count  of  Guise. 
This  was  but  one  incident  of  the  Religious  Wars,  whose 
devastations  caused  the  people  extreme  misery.  In  Chau- 
mont their  unhappy  condition  was  aggravated  in  1564  by  the 
extravagant  debts  incurred  by  the  city  for  the  purpose  of 
giving  a  magnificent  reception  to  King  Charles  ix.  The 
monarch  visited  Chaumont  for  some  days  and  during  his 
stay  the  streets  were  lavishly  decorated,  mystery  plays  were 
performed  on  stages  in  all  the  streets,  banquets  were 
given,  and  rich  presents  bestowed  upon  the  king  and  his 
attendants. 

In  the  midst  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War  the  plague  once 
more  broke  out  in  the  villages  around  Chaumont.  In  vain 
were  the  city  gates  closed  and  the  people  forbidden  under 
pain  of  death  to  venture  forth;  the  plague  entered  and 
destroyed  2,300  victims  during  the  ensuing  nine  months.  The 
following  years  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War  found  Chaumont 
often  crowded  with  French  troops  or  those  of  her  allies  and 


Chaumont-en-Bassigny  65 

from  some  of  these  rough  soldiers  of  fortune,  the  people 
suffered  almost  as  much  as  from  the  enemy. 

After  the  Peace  of  the  Pyrenees  had  closed  the  Thirty 
Years'  War  in  1659,  Chaumont  at  last  settled  into  a  tran- 
quility which  endured  almost  unbroken  by  noteworthy  events, 
until  the  Revolution  of  1789.  Yet  even  during  the  preced- 
ing centuries,  which  constituted  in  every  European  nation  a 
cycle  of  conflict  and  confusion  while  the  peoples  who  were 
almost  savages  at  the  time  of  the  dissolution  of  the  Roman 
Empire  were  gradually  building  new  foundations  of  govern- 
ment, religion,  and  culture,  the  condition  of  the  people  of 
Chaumont  was  by  no  means  wretched  always  and  in  every 
respect.  The  dark  side  of  the  picture  only  has  been  presented 
thus  far. 

The  political  and  commercial  privileges  granted  to  the 
city  in  1190  by  Count  Henry  11  of  Champagne  were  grad- 
ually increased  in  later  years.  After  Chaumont,  as  a  part 
of  Champagne,  became  united  to  the  crown  in  1328,  the  royal 
bailiffs  themselves  generally  gave  to  the  inhabitants  a  just 
and,  for  the  period,  beneficent  government.  Such  govern- 
ment, however,  was  still  better  assured  in  1355  by  the  inaugu- 
ration of  elections  at  which  the  inhabitants  chose  their  own 
local  officials,  while  in  1604,  King  Henry  iv  finally  granted 
to  the  city  the  privilege  of  being  governed  by  a  mayor  and 
city  council.  The  successive  kings  of  France  displayed  a  per- 
sonal interest  in  Chaumont,  mainly,  it  is  true,  because  of  its 
military  strength.  But  this  interest  finally  resulted  in  its 
thorough  fortification,  the  work  being  begun  under  Louis 
XII  and  completed,  between  1515  and  1559,  under  Francis 
I  and  Henry  11.  These  fortifications  existed  until  1848  when 
they  were  leveled  to  make  the  broad  boulevards  which  today 
encircle  the  inner  city.     They  consisted  of  nine  bastions  con- 


66  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

nected  by  tall  ramparts  and  they  were  sufficiently  strong  to 
hold  at  bay  all  assailants  who  came  before  them  during  the 
two  centuries  following  their  completion. 

A  great  measure  of  independence  from  the  afflictions 
caused  by  the  presence  of  alien  soldiery  was  attained  by  Chau- 
mont  with  the  foundation,  during  the  reign  of  Charles  vii 
(1422-1461),  of  the  companies  of  arbalesters,  composed  of 
young  men  of  the  community,  similar  to  those  at  Langres 
already  described.  As  was  the  case  at  Langres,  these  com- 
panies came  to  be  not  only  a  great  safeguard  to  their  native 
city,  but  a  powerful  weapon  for  overawing  and  finally  for 
destroying  the  predatory  nobility  of  the  adjacent  country. 
An  armory  called  the  Hotel  de  I'Arquebus  with  which  was 
connected  a  commodious  garden  or  drill  ground,  was  built 
for  this  militia  in  1647,  outside  the  ramparts  on  the  ground 
now  occupied  by  the  large  Trefousse  glove  factory  on  the 
Avenue  des  Etats-Unis,  where  it  remained  until  1852. 

Through  all  their  long  generations  the  people  of  Chau- 
mont  have  taken  a  deep  and  comforting  interest  in  their  reli- 
gion and  in  the  institutions  and  buildings  in  which  religion 
has  found  tangible  outward  form  and  expression.  The  fact 
that  through  all  the  sectarian  struggles  which  in  different 
ages  have  agitated  France,  the  vast  majority  of  the  Chau- 
montais  adhered  unswervingly  to  the  Catholic  faith  probably 
contributed  materially  to  the  wealth  and,  particularly,  to  the 
standing  of  the  various  religious  bodies  whose  buildings  were 
dotted  thickly  through  the  town  before  the  Revolution.  A 
number  of  these  buildings  still  remain,  though  altered  to 
other  uses.  The  beautiful  Church  of  St.  Jean-Baptiste,  the 
most  notable  structure  in  the  city,  was  begun  in  the  twelfth 
century,  but  it  was  so  long  in  reaching  completion  that  parts 
of  it  exemplify  also  the  styles  of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth 


Chaumont-en-Bassigny  67 

centuries.  The  ancient  Convent  of  the  UrsuHnes,  on  the  Rue 
Docteur  Michel,  was  transformed  after  the  Revolution  into 
barracks  for  the  gendarmerie.  The  present  museum  and  art 
gallery  was  originally  a  Carmelite  Monastery  and  then 
became  the  Prefecture  of  the  Haute-Marne  until  the  comple- 
tion of  the  present  more  modern  prefectural  building. 

The  extensive  mass  of  the  Lycee,  with  its  pleasant,  tree- 
shaded  courts,  colonnaded  porches,  and  lovely  seventeenth- 
century  chapel,  was  once  a  college  of  the  Jesuits,  while  the 
ancient  Capucin  Convent  has  now  become  that  place  of 
amusement,  so  curiously  antiquated  and  compressed  to  Amer- 
ican eyes,  the  Municipal  Theatre,  hidden  away  on  the  alley- 
like Rue  Felix  Bablon.  The  large  City  Market  now  covers 
most  of  the  ground  occupied  prior  to  the  year  1800  by  the 
churchyard  and  church  of  St.  Michel,  which,  it  used  to  be 
said  "carried  into  the  clouds  the  summit  of  its  tall  tower." 
On  the  Avenue  Carnot,  leading  down  Buxereuilles,  the  Hopital 
Civile,  whose  slate-colored  dome  is  conspicuous  above  the 
trees  from  every  elevated  point  west  of  the  city,  was  erected 
in  1765  by  the  Sisters  of  Charity  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul  and 
it  is  still  conducted  by  them, though  during  the  war  it  was  used 
by  the  French  as  a  military,  not  a  civil,  hospital. 

Far  down  in  the  bosky  valley  of  the  Marne,  with  the 
road  to  Neufchateau  on  one  side  and  the  creeping  waters 
of  the  river  on  the  other,  still  stands  St.  Aignan's  ancient 
chapel  guarding  the  cemetery  clustered  about  it.  But  the 
Chapel  of  Notre  Dame,  said  to  have  been  set  quite  as  graci- 
ously in  the  valley  of  the  Suize  at  Buxereuilles,  has  quite 
vanished,  as  have  several  other  chapels  within  the  former 
city  walls.  Today  factories,  stores,  and  offices  occupy  many 
of  the  places  formerly  held  by  the  old  religious  houses  while 
the  streets,  where  once  walked  so  many  black-  or  white-  or 


68  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

gray-robed  figures  of  the  omnipresent  orders,  are  filled  with 
a  crowd  as  modern  and  as  preoccupied  with  the  business  and 
pleasures  of  the  present  as  were  the  former  denizens  of  these 
precincts  with  the  problems  of  death  and  eternity. 


CHAPTER  VI 


u 


CHIEFLY  FOR  THOSE  WHO       FOUGHT  THE  BATTLE  OF 


CHAUMONT 


>> 


LEST  he  display  too  great  a  familiarity  with  the  place  to 
J  escape  detection,  it  seems  best  to  the  writer  to  confess, 
before  proceeding  further  with  this  rambling  narrative,  that 
a  great  part  of  his  war-time  and  post  war-time  days  in  France 
were  passed  at  Chaumont.  That  experience  he  shared  in 
common  with  some  thousands  of  other  Americans,  officers 
and  soldiers,  some  of  whom  were  "sentenced  to  Chaumont 
for  the  duration  of  the  war"  while  others  were  there  for 
short  periods  only  and  then  departed  for  other  centers  of 
American  activity,  buzzing  with  the  industry  of  the  Services 
of  Supply  or  trembling  with  the  cannon  roar  of  the  front, 
as  the  case  might  be.  Some  of  these  warriors  in  olive  drab 
liked  Chaumont;  others  detested  it.  To  some  the  narrow, 
crooked  thoroughfares,  the  quaint  old  buildings,  the  tree 
branches  bending  out  over  high,  secretive  walls  from  jealously 
hidden  gardens,  the  sudden  vistas  of  far  hills  and  red-roofed 
villages  flashing  upon  the  eyes  of  the  wayfarer  at  turns  in 
the  outer  streets  where  once  the  ramparts  ran,  the  leisurely 
habits  and  unfamiliar  business  methods  of  the  people,  were 
all  sources  of  interest,  even  of  pleasure,  because  they  spoke 
to  the  stranger  the  subtle  language  of  antiquity  and  fired 
his  imagination  with  the  romance  of  a  long  and  colorful  past 
and  a  novel  and  piquant  present.  To  others,  all  of  these 
things  were  merely  irritants,  forcing  constant  unfavorable 
comparison  with  the  fresh,  efficient  modernness  of  America 
and  the  energetic  methods  of  its  people. 

But  whether  they  liked  Chaumont  or  whether  they  de- 

69 


70  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

tested  it,  one  thing  is  certain  —  they  can  never  forget  it.  In 
fact,  it  is  safe  to  predict  that  they  will  remember  it  with 
increasing  clearness,  yes,  and  with  increasing  kindliness,  as 
the  years  go  by.  For  whether  humble  or  conspicuous  the 
part  which  he  played  in  it,  hardly  a  veteran  of  the  World 
War  will  meet  any  future  experience  of  peace-time  which  will 
stay  with  him  as  will  those  of  the  days  when  he  was  numbered 
among  the  host  of  America's  Great  Crusade,  a  soldier  in  the 
armies  of  civilization.  Therefore  let  us  go  back  to  Chau- 
mont,  that  nerve-center  of  the  American  Expeditionary 
Forces,  as  it  was  in  19 18,  and  strolling  about  its  crooked 
streets  and  shady  purlieus,  revisit  some  of  the  places  which 
we  knew  then,  throwing  about  them  something  of  that  dis- 
tant past  which  only  history  can  revivify,  interwoven  with 
something  of  the  nearer  past  of  which  we  were  a  part. 

We  may  start,  appropriately  enough,  at  that  busy  little 
gare,  with  its  two  sugar-loaf  roundhouses  opposite  the  plat- 
forms, its  long  strings  of  passenger  cars,  40  Hommes,  8 
Chevaux,  and  its  assortment  of  locomotives  varying  from 
teakettles  to  real  American  Baldwins,  where  so  many  new 
arrivals  at  General  Headquarters  ran  the  gauntlet  of  red 
brassards  appertaining  to  the  Railway  Transportation  Officers. 
The  Chaumont  station  does  not  bear  a  particularly  historic 
appearance,  but  at  least  once,  long  years  before  the  Amer- 
icans began  to  swarm  out  upon  its  platforms,  it  witnessed 
an  episode  which  was  interesting,  even  though  distressing. 
This  was  in  1870,  when  the  troops  of  the  French  Fifth  Army 
Corps,  under  General  de  Failly,  having  become  isolated  from 
the  army  of  Marshal  MacMahon  after  the  battle  of  Worth, 
retreated  from  Bitche,  north  of  Strassburg  in  Lorraine,  across 
the  Vosges  Mountains  and  thence  by  Mirecourt  and  Mon- 
tigny-le-Roi   toward    Chaumont,    seeking  by   this   hard   and 


The  old  Donjon  garden,  overlooking  the  valley  of  the  Suize, 

Chaumont 

[Page  7S] 


1e>.^- ..,'•;- 


The  Tour  Hantef'euille  ;ind  St.   Jean's  twin  spires,  Chaumont 

[Page  73] 


*' Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  71 

circuitous  route  to  reach  a  railroad  by  which  they  might  join 
the  French  reserve  army  at  Chalons-sur-Marne.  They  suc- 
ceeded, but  when  they  reached  Chaumont,  exhausted,  ragged, 
almost  without  food  and  utterly  dispirited,  they  were  the 
mere  ghost  of  an  army  corps.  For  two  days,  observed  by 
the  Chaumontais  with  combined  dismay  and  disgust,  they 
thronged  the  Chaumont  yards  while  embarking  upon  troop 
trains  for  the  north.  The  last  train  to  depart  for  Chalons 
had  barely  passed  St.  Dizier  when  Prussian  uhlans  cut  the 
line  at  that  point.  De  Failly's  troops  eventually  rejoined 
Marshal  MacMahon  only  to  become  involved,  with  the  rest 
of  that  unfortunate  commander's  army,  in  the  overwhelming 
disaster  of  Sedan. 

Going  out  through  the  gates  of  the  railway  station  with 
the  crowd  of  French  civilians,  American  doughboys  weighted 
down  with  packs,  Y.  M.  C.  A.  girls  in  fussy  Ford  ambulances, 
and  officers  in  limousines  bearing  the  red,  white,  and  blue 
insignia  of  General  Headquarters,  we  come  immediately,  in 
the  square  facing  the  station,  upon  the  monument  to  the  sol- 
diers of  the  Haute-Marne  who  died  for  their  country  in  the 
war  of  1870.  At  the  risk  of  offending  some  persons  of 
highly  developed  artistic  taste,  the  opinion  is  ventured  that 
most  doughboys  thought  this  monument  a  pretty  fine  thing, 
with  its  high  marble  pedestal  bearing  aloft  a  dying  French 
soldier  and  an  officer,  very  much  at  bay,  above  whose  heads 
an  angel  with  outspread  wings  poises  a  laurel  wreath.  At 
all  events,  it  thoroughly  typifies  the  spirit  of  the  memorial 
monuments  of  1870  to  be  seen  in  nearly  every  city  of  France. 

Behind  an  ornate  gateway,  facing  one  side  of  the  monu- 
ment, stands  the  sedate  building  of  the  Bank  of  France, 
resembling  rather  a  residence  than  a  business  establishment, 
and  across  the  square  from  it  the  little  hostelry  and  restau- 

6 


72  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

rant  generally  known  as  the  Hotel  Tourelle.  Perhaps  its 
outer  cafe,  where  French  poilus  or  civilians  sipped  wine  or 
beer,  and  its  inner  dining-room  where  food  as  well  as  drink 
were  served,  was  not  familiar  to  many  soldiers.  But  those 
who  visited  it  occasionally  found  it  much  favored  by  "  Y " 
workers  of  both  sexes,  who  discreetly  drank  water  despite 
the  conspicuous  enameled  sign  on  the  window  :  Ici  on  consulte 
le  Bottin,  which  men  in  uniform  usually  interpreted,  "Here 
one  consults  the  bottle,"  rather  than  the  guidebook  advertised. 

Across  the  Rue  de  la  Tour  Charton  from  the  Hotel  Tour- 
elle lie  the  cool,  shaded  pathways  of  the  Square  Philippe 
Lebon,  with  the  statue  of  that  kindly  appearing  inventor,  a 
native  of  the  Haute-Marne  who  introduced  gas  lighting  into 
France,  standing  just  within  the  gateway.  The  rustic  kiosque 
de  musiqiie  farther  from  the  street  and  embowered  in  trees, 
was  seldom  used  during  the  war,  but  in  the  afternoon  or 
early  evening  one  seldom  failed  to  find  a  few  American  sol- 
diers, off  duty,  playing  ball  with  a  bevy  of  French  children 
on  the  lawns  which  stretch  back  toward  the  low  wall  and  the 
close-cut  hedges  bordering  the  western  edge  of  the  park. 

From  the  semicircular  bay  in  that  wall  projecting  farthest 
on  the  edge  of  the  hill  is  to  be  seen  one  of  the  city's  most 
attractive  views.  Below  one's  feet  down  the  almost  precipitous 
hillside  are  the  chimney  pots  and  tile  roofs  of  the  houses 
clinging  to  the  sides  of  the  Rue  de  I'Abattoir  and  the  Rue 
des  Tanneries;  streets  which  drop  down  the  narrow  ravine 
from  the  now  demolished  Porte  de  I'Eau  into  the  valley  of 
the  Suize.  Hardly  300  feet  distant  across  the  ravine  rises, 
from  above  the  treetops,  its  equally  precipitous  opposite  face, 
crowned  by  the  rear  walls  of  the  residences  facing  on  the 
Rue  du  Palais.  Beyond  and  above  them  the  twin  spires  of 
St.  Jean-Baptiste  prick  the  sky  and  at  the  extreme  end  of 


"Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  73 

the  promontory  the  Palace  of  Justice,  overtopped  by  the 
majestic  bulk  of  the  Tour  Hautefeuille,  crowns  the  dizzy 
escarpment  of  the  old  donjon,  ivy  cloaked  from  base  to  ter- 
race. Far  below  the  gentle  Suize  winds  among  the  gardens 
and  the  scattered  dwellings  of  the  Faubourg  des  Tanneries 
and  on  through  verdant  meadows,  while  far  away  the  blue 
hills  of  Bassigny  roll  off  toward  the  setting  sun. 

Perhaps  a  soldier,  smoking  a  cigarette  and  idly  swing- 
ing his  feet  over  the  edge  of  the  semicircular  wall,  remarks 
that  the  latter  looks  old.  It  is.  The  wall  is  the  lower  por- 
tion of  the  Charton  Tower,  one  of  the  nine  bastions  of  the 
city  ramparts  built,  probably,  about  1550  and  cut  down  to 
its  lower  stage  three  hundred  years  later,  when  most  of  the 
fortifications  were  completely  leveled.  The  donjon  was  an- 
other but  much  older  bastion  of  the  same  enceinte  and  these 
two  strong  points  by  their  cross  fire  protected  the  approach 
through  the  ravine  to  the  former  massive  Porte  de  I'Eau  at 
its  head,  where  the  streets  leading  up  from  the  valley  fau- 
bourgs entered  the  city  ramparts.  Though  demolished,  the 
medieval  defenses  have  left  their  traces  in  some  form  nearly 
everywhere.  The  deep  cut  through  which  the  railroad  runs 
along  the  southern  edge  of  the  city  was  originally  the  moat 
of  the  walled  town  and  on  the  east  the  broad  Boulevard  Gam- 
betta  and  Boulevard  Voltaire  have  found  ample  elbowroom 
because  they  were  laid  out  on  the  whole  space  formerly 
occupied  by  the  rampart  and  moat. 

Returning  to  the  Hotel  Tourelle  one  stands  at  the  end 
of  the  Rue  de  Verdun,  a  street  wider  and  more  modern  than 
most  of  the  streets  of  the  city  and  containing  a  number  of 
the  buildings,  small,  perhaps,  but  of  the  dignified,  carefully 
chiseled  stone  construction  characteristic  of  modern  French 
architecture.     But  even  here  is  to  be  seen  at  the  rear  corner 


74  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 


of  the  hotel,  abutting  on  the  gateway  to  the  gray  old  court- 
yard known  as  the  Cour  de  Champs,  one  of  those  curious, 
semicircular  exterior  turrets  starting  7  or  8  feet  above  the 
ground  and  enclosing  a  spiral  staircase,  lighted  by  tiny  win- 
dows and  extending  to  all  the  floors  above.  The  use  of  these 
space-saving  adaptations  of  medieval  fortress  turrets  seems 
to  have  been  common  in  old  Chaumont  and  many  of  them 
are  to  be  seen  there,  particularly  in  the  short  streets  near  the 
Palace  of  Justice,  constituting,  because  of  their  rarity  else- 
where, one  of  the  features  which  makes  Chaumont  notable 
among  antiquarians. 

The  Rue  de  Verdun  soon  runs  out  into  the  little  square 
with  a  drinking  fountain  in  its  center  where  this  street  meets 
the  Rue  Victor  Mariotte,  the  Rue  Felix  Bablon  and  the  Rue 
Toupot  de  Beveaux.  The  Rue  Victor  Mariotte,  much  fav- 
ored as  a  short  cut  from  the  station  by  trucks,  automobiles, 
and  marching  columns,  climbs  a  steep  grade  past  one  of  the 
two  houses  occupied  for  a  time  by  the  American  Provost 
Marshal's  office.  This  place,  of  rueful  memory  to  many  a 
luckless  doughboy,  shares  its  dubious  honors  with  another 
in  the  Rue  Laloy,  near  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  where  the  Assist- 
ant Provost  Marshal  maintained  his  court  of  Nemesis  in  the 
earlier  days  of  American  occupation. 

Upon  the  Rue  Felix  Bablon,  as  heretofore  mentioned,  is 
the  boxlike  entrance  to  that  Theatre  Municipal  and  erstwhile 
convent  wherein  were  staged,  at  various  times,  moving  inter- 
national ceremonies,  and  such  American  soldier  productions 
as  the  G.  H.  Q.  Revue,  first  given  here  in  December,  19 18, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  "Christmas  Fund  for  the  Kiddies  of 
Chaumont."  But  much  more  often  one  saw  at  the  Theatre 
Municipal  those  French  plays  and  vaudeville  performances  of 
the  "small  town"  variety,  gazed  upon  admiringly  from  the 


<{ 


Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  75 


wooden  benches  of  the  pit  by  blue-coated  poilus  and  their 
best  girls,  tolerantly  from  the  red  plush  upholstery  of  the 
premier  loges  by  family  parties  of  Chaumontais,  and  disdain- 
fully by  groups  of  American  officers  sequestered  between  the 
high  partitions  of  the  boxes  farther  back.  One  does  not  for- 
get, either,  the  discreet  admonition  of  the  management,  pre- 
sented on  a  neat  placard  beside  the  stage  for  the  guidance 
of  the  public  in  case  any  performance  should  chance  to  meet 
with  disapproval:  "The  audience  is  kindly  requested  to 
refrain  from  throwing  anything  on  the  stage." 

The  Rue  Toupot  de  Beveaux,  after  passing  sundry  shops, 
among  them  the  Libraire  Jeanne  d'Arc  with  its  window  cases 
displaying  an  odd  collection  of  missals  and  breviaries,  gilt 
saints,  beads,  and  candlesticks  intermixed  with  the  latest  novels 
and  monographs  on  the  war,  comes  in  a  moment  to  Chaumont's 
most  pretentious  hostelry,  the  Hotel  de  France  et  des  Postes. 
Leaving  aside  for  a  moment  the  enlisted  men  wise  enough  to 
cherish  their  francs  and  centimes,  what  officer  who  ever  set 
foot  in  Chaumont  escaped  at  least  one  meal  at  the  Hotel  de 
France  ?  Not  that  it  was  not  a  good  meal,  the  potage  savory, 
the  viands  tender,  the  salads  crisp,  and  the  vins  above  the 
average.  But  probably,  afterward,  if  he  were  staying  in  the 
city,  he  borrowed  some  money  and  joined  a  mess,  while,  if 
he  were  merely  passing  through,  he  borrowed  some  money 
to  take  him  on  to  his  destination. 

However,  the  expensiveness  of  the  Hotel  de  France  must 
have  been  one  of  its  appealing  features  to  Americans,  for  at 
dinner  time  the  big  front  dining-room  and  the  more  exclusive 
one  farther  back  were  always  filled  with  Sam  Brownes  and 
it  was  seldom  that  the  humble  line  officer  could  not  whisper 
to  his  neighbor,  in  an  awestruck  voice,  "  See  that  big,  fat 
guy  over  in  the  corner?     That's  Major  General  Umptytum, 


76  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

commanding  the th  Division,"  or,  "  Don't  you  know  that 

consumptive-looking  shrimp  with  the  tin  pigeons  jollying 
Madeleine  over  the  other  side  of  the  coat  rack?  Why,  man, 
that's  Colonel  Poohbah!  He  runs  the  whole  works  down 
at  Back-sur-Back,  delousing  stations  'n'everything."  Then, 
too,  one  always  enjoyed  the  mild  sensation  caused  among 
newcomers  by  the  dramatic  entry  of  "  Petit  Paul,"  that  re- 
markable dwarf  of  three-foot  stature  with  his  armful  of 
daily  papers,  his  amazingly  vibrant  voice  and  his  stock  English 
phrase,  "New  York  Herald,  Sheecago  Treehnne,  sair?  Thank 
you,  sair."  Finally,  it  was  pleasant,  after  dinner,  to  sip  one's 
cafe  noir — fin,  if  you  preferred  —  in  the  shadows  of  the  big 
courtyard  or  the  tiny  coffee-room  behind  the  cashier's  desk 
where  one  could  talk  English,  real  English,  with  Mademoi- 
selle Alyce  or  her  equally  smiling  and  volatile  sister  and 
cousin.  Under  such  circumstances  it  wasn't  so  bad  even 
when,  sometimes  on  moonlit  nights,  the  siren  whistle  blew 
at  the  waterworks  and  the  lights  went  out  and  one  knew  that 
somewhere  up  the  line,  50  or  60  miles  away,  *'  Jerry  was  com- 
ing over"  on  one  of  his  bombing  raids  and  that  around  town 
some  of  the  more  timorous  women  and  children  of  Chaumont 
were  hustling  for  the  "  caves  "  and  ahris.  Everybody  knew 
that  he  wouldn't  come  there.  It  wasn't  etiquette  to  bomb 
each  other's  General  Headquarters  and  though  Jerry  violated 
most  of  the  rules  of  etiquette  during  the  war  he  never  violated 
that  one,  at  least  not  in  the  case  of  Chaumont. 

Beyond  the  Hotel  de  France,  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue 
de  Chamarandes,  was  that  other  caravansary,  the  Hotel  du 
Centre,  where,  providing  one  were  fortunate  enough  to  find 
his  way  to  the  staircase  through  the  mazes  of  the  ground- 
f^oor  cafe,  he  could  reach  a  passable  dining-room  above  where 
everybody  ate  at  long  tables  and  in  a  stony  silence.     It  was 


At  Condes  the  Marne  runs  deep  and  still 


[Page  118] 


w 


^T-yrt-r^     k- 


3*      iL^^s:!?;; 


^?^^ 


U-i' 


|.i»^*>>i*rx^ 


Rue  Victor  Mariotte,  Chaumont 


[Page  74] 


Choignes  with  Chaumont  in  the  distance 


[Page  77] 


Choignes  on  the  Marne 


[Page  81] 


''Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  jy 

a  good  place  "  to  chew  the  cud  of  thought,"  but  if  you  craved 
a  more  Hghtsome  atmosphere,  imitative  of  Paris,  you  went 
to  the  Cafe  de  Foy,  a  few  steps  from  the  Hotel  de  Ville, 
across  the  Rue  de  Chamarandes.  Here  there  were  an  abun- 
dance of  mirrors  to  reflect  the  electric  lights,  and  a  certain 
modest  luster  of  glass  and  silver  plate,  especially  on  the  little 
tables  in  the  grilled  recess  at  the  rear  end.  Also  occasionally 
there  were  some  flashing  eyes  which  could  be  looked  into 
without  too  great  difficulty. 

Passing  the  market  where  once  arose  St.  Michel's  spire 
and  crossing,  once  more,  the  bridge  over  the  railroad  tracks, 
one  came,  just  beyond  the  boulevards,  to  the  alleyway,  fes- 
tooned about  at  evening  time  by  American  and  French  sol- 
diers, which  lead  back  to  the  Cinema  de  Paris.  There  was 
good  music  here,  especially  from  one  maimed  ex-soldier,  who 
once  conducted  his  own  orchestra  in  Paris,  and  the  pictures 
were  generally  worth  looking  at  —  that  is,  so  much  of  them 
as  could  be  seen  through  the  clouds  of  tobacco  smoke  emitted 
by  the  Allied  soldiery  which  always  thronged  the  lower  floor. 
Eastward  beyond  the  cinema  theater  and  the  fire  engine 
house,  or  depot  de  pompes  a  incendie,  lay,  on  the  Rue  de 
Reservoir,  that  building  of  bains  et  lavoir  where  many  a 
grimy  warrior  up  from  the  ports  or  down  from  the  front 
got  his  first  thorough  bath  of  many  a  day. 

From  the  bridge  over  the  tracks  the  shaded  promenades 
and  broad  roadway  of  the  Boulevard  Thiers  extend  both  east 
and  west,  li  one  walked  eastward  he  came  presently  to  a 
fork,  the  right  hand  roads  leading  him  out  past  the  city 
cemetery  and  suddenly  into  the  open  country,  where  from  a 
steep,  wooded  hillside  with  pinetops  sighing  in  the  breeze,  he 
looked  across  the  lovely  meadows  of  the  Marne  to  the  roofs 
and  belfry  of  Choignes,  sleeping  at  the  feet  of  the  great  hills 


yS  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

beyond  the  river.  The  left-hand  turn,  on  the  contrary,  led 
him  still  through  the  city,  along  the  Boulevard  Gambetta  with 
its  pleasant  wayside  benches  beneath  the  trees.  Here,  on  one 
side,  stood  the  comfortable  and  hospitable  hut  of  the  French 
Officers'  Club  and,  flanking  the  Normal  School  for  Men,  the 
row  of  pretentious  mansions  much  favored  for  billets  by 
American  officers  of  the  '*  order  of  the  golden  leaf "  and 
upward.  On  the  lower  ground  across  the  boulevard  extended 
the  tar-papered  Adrian  barracks  of  some  units  of  French 
infantry,  with  the  impressively  large  buildings  of  the  Girls' 
High  School  and  the  Normal  School  for  Women  at  the 
northern  extremity  of  the  block.  Chaumont  is  well  supplied 
with  educational  institutions,  particularly  in  this  quarter. 

The  French  infantry  barracks  of  war-time,  mentioned 
above,  occupied  the  ground  of  the  Champ  de  Foire,  normally 
left  free  for  open-air  fairs,  circuses,  and  playgrounds  for 
children,  since  it  directly  faces  some  of  the  oldest  and  most 
crowded  streets  of  the  city.  Here  even  remain  a  few  of  the 
street  names  of  pre-Revolutionary  times  and  if  one  descend 
the  Rue  Voie  Beugnot  he  will  pass  those  mere  slits  between 
the  walls  of  opposite  houses  called,  respectively,  the  Rue  du 
Vinaigrier  (street  of  the  vinegar  factory)  and  the  Rue  du 
Pain  Perdu  (street  of  the  lost  bread).  Decent  enough 
within  seem  most  of  the  houses  abutting  on  these  ancient 
alleyways  but  the  children  dwelling  therein  certainly  have 
need  of  the  nearby  Champ  de  Foire  for  their  daily  fresh 
air  and  sunshine. 

A  few  steps  more  bring  the  wayfarer  to  the  Place  de 
I'Hotel  de  Ville.  How  many  recollections  may  crowd  upon 
the  American  as  he  stands  on  the  f^at  cobblestones  of  the 
Place  and  looks  down  the  principal  street  of  Chaumont,  now 
the  Rue  Victoire  de  la  Marne,  and  up  at  the  chaste  fagade 


"Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  79 

of  that  city  hall,  built  in  1788  on  the  eve  of  the  Revolution, 
with  its  three  arched  doorways  supporting  a  colonnaded  bal- 
cony and  a  gracefully  carved  pediment  bearing  the  usual 
inscription,  Liberie,  Egalite,  Fraternite,  and  above  that  the 
face  of  the  town  clock  and  the  domed  bell  tower  surmount- 
ing all !  There  may  come  back  to  him  that  sultry  afternoon 
of  July  4,  19 1 8,  while  France  and  England  and  America  were 
waiting  with  bated  breath  for  the  next  German  drive  some- 
where along  the  Western  Front,  when  the  Place  was  jammed 
from  wall  to  wall  of  the  surrounding  shops  with  a  throng 
of  French  and  American  soldiers,  civilians,  women,  and  chil- 
dren, fervently  celebrating  the  anniversary  of  America's 
Independence  Day.  Again  he  can  see  the  rigid  ranks  of 
our  Marines  in  forest  green  and  French  infantry  in  horizon 
blue,  guarding  the  narrow  passageway  up  to  the  steps  of 
the  Hotel  de  Ville  left  clear  for  the  distinguished  guests. 
Then  he  sees  General  Pershing,  General  Ragneau,  and  Gen- 
eral Wirbel,  amid  the  wild  applause  of  the  crowd,  striding 
up  that  pathway  behind  the  slender,  flashing  bayonets  of  the 
French  guard  of  honor  and  watches  them  appear  on  the  bal- 
cony above,  framed  about  by  billows  of  red,  white,  and  blue 
bunting  intermingled  with  the  Tricolor  and  the  Stars  and 
Stripes.  He  may  not  remember  the  more  or  less  eloquent 
speeches  but  he  will  not  forget  the  tall,  rigid  form  of  Amer- 
ica's chieftain  unbending  to  receive  the  great  bouquet  pre- 
sented to  him  by  a  little  French  boy  on  behalf  of  the  grateful 
children  of  Chaumont,  nor  the  flashing  smile  which  lighted 
that  chieftain's  face,  usually  so  set  and  drawn  during  those 
anxious  days,  as  he  lifted  to  the  balcony  railing  the  laughing 
little  daughter  of  Chaumont's  mayor.  Commandant  Levy- 
Alphandery,  and  looked  with  her  down  upon  the  cheering 
throng  below. 


8o  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

Or,  again,  he  may  recall  the  foggy  morning  of  the  fol- 
lowing Christmas  Day  when,  with  colder  air  outside  but 
warmer  and  infinitely  more  joyous  hearts  within,  another 
crowd  gathered  in  that  same  Place  to  welcome  President  and 
Mrs.  Wilson  as  they,  accompanied  by  General  Pershing  and 
a  group  of  distinguished  French  and  American  officers,  as- 
cended the  steps  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  for  the  reception  tend- 
ered them  by  the  city.  Hedged  about  with  the  simple,  hearty 
spirit  of  a  family  gathering  and  all  the  kindliness  of  the 
season  seemed  that  Christmas  morning  in  Chaumont  as  the 
townsfolk  looked  upon  the  chief  executive  of  the  great  nation 
which  had  shared  with  them  the  burdens  of  the  war  and  the 
joy  of  its  recent  overwhelming  triumph,  and  in  their  happy 
faces  they  showed  that  they  welcomed  him  in  their  hearts 
as  sincerely  as  in  their  public  places. 

Nor  would  the  soldier,  standing  in  the  Place,  forget  the 
little  stands  and  booths  and  carts  which  on  certain  days  of 
the  week  in  ordinary  times  ranged, themselves  as  if  by  magic 
over  the  flat  cobbles,  draped  with  bright  bands  and  streamers 
of  ribbon  and  tissue  paper  and  filled  with  every  sort  of 
knickknack,  from  cheap  jewelry  and  toilet  articles  to  candy 
and  fruit  and  lacework,  while  about  them  buzzed  a  crowd  of 
women  and  children,  always  artlessly  interested  and  always 
buying. 

But  the  Place  de  I'Hotel  de  Ville  had  witnessed  many  a 
stirring  and  tragic  and  merry  scene  long  years  and  centuries 
before  the  feet  of  American  soldiers  found  their  way  thither. 
Thus  it  was  that  on  the  afternoon  of  January  4,  1814,  the 
townspeople,  in  response  to  the  beating  of  the  drums  through 
the  streets,  gathered  in  anxious  haste  to  hear  the  Commissary 
of  Police  announce  from  the  balcony  that  the  invading  armies 
of  Germany,  Russia,  and  Austria,  350,000  strong,  had  crossed 


"Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  8l 

the  frontiers  of  France  and  that  a  part  of  the  army  of  the 
Prince  of  Schwarzenberg  was  advancing  on  Chaumont.  The 
commissary,  by  order  of  the  emperor,  proclaimed  the  levy  in 
mass,  but  the  people,  long  since  deprived  of  their  arms  by 
the  suspicious  Imperial  government,  willing  though  they  were, 
found  themselves  helpless  to  respond  to  the  appeal  to  their 
patriotism  and  returned  dejectedly  to  their  homes. 

No  defenders  remained  to  them  save  the  few  thousand 
stout  veterans  of  the  Old  Guard  under  Marshal  Mortier 
which  were  retiring  sullenly  before  overwhelming  numbers 
from  Langres  via  Chaumont  on  Bar-sur-Aube.  These  devoted 
troops  arrived  and  billeted  in  Chaumont,  their  advanced  posts 
out  on  the  road  to  Nogent  and  Bourbonne,  their  line  of  de- 
fense along  the  Marne  guarding  particularly  the  bridge  at 
Choignes.  On  the  afternoon  of  January  i8,  Schwarzenberg's 
forces  reached  the  heights  opposite  and,  deploying,  attacked 
the  crossings.  They  were  repulsed  but  all  through  that  cold 
winter  night  the  battle  continued,  the  French  cannon  thunder- 
ing from  the  hills  southeast  of  Chaumont  in  response  to  the 
enemy's  bombardment,  while  the  reserves  of  the  Old  Guard, 
stood  to  arms  in  the  Place  de  I'Hotel  de  Ville.  At  3  :oo 
o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  nineteenth,  while  the  anxious 
people  gathered  in  the  streets  of  the  city  watched  the  glow  on 
the  night  sky  from  the  burning  buildings  of  Choignes,  came 
word  that  the  enemy  had  forced  the  passage  of  the  Marne. 
Soon  followed  the  order  for  the  Guard  to  commence  the 
retreat  from  the  city  and  across  the  Suize  by  the  Paris  road. 

At  8  :oo  o'clock  the  dejected  citizens  around  the  square 
heard  the  clatter  of  a  horse's  hoofs  and  a  Wiirtemberg  hussar 
rode  up  before  the  Hotel  de  Ville  and,  calling  for  the  mayor, 
demanded  the  surrender  of  the  city  and  the  immediate  as- 
signment of  subsistence  and  billets  for  the  Allied  troops.    For 


82  The  MarnCj  Historic  and  Picturesque 

eight  days  thereafter  the  hosts  of  the  invaders  poured  through 
Chaumont,  taking  whatever  they  wished  of  private  property, 
treating  the  inhabitants  with  great  harshness,  and  ruthlessly 
pillaging  the  surrounding  country.  At  the  end  of  January 
the  Emperor  Alexander  i  of  Russia,  King  Frederick  William 
of  Prussia,  and  Emperor  Francis  i  of  Austria  passed  through 
the  city  on  their  way,  so  they  thought,  to  Paris.  But  the 
unexpected  defeats  of  the  hosts  of  Blucher  and  Schwarzen- 
berg  by  the  desperate  French  Army,  inspired  by  the  genius  of 
Napoleon,  sent  this  trio  of  "warrior  monarchs,"  toward  the 
end  of  February,  scuttling  incontinently  back  to  Chaumont 
where,  through  the  brains  of  their  ministers,  they  presently 
evolved  the  noted  Treaty  of  Chaumont,  designed  to  rivet  upon 
Europe  in  perpetuity  the  divine  right  of  kings  and  to  thrust 
France  into  the  dust  of  humiliation  chiefly  because  of  her 
revolt  against  absolutism. 

Turning  back,  again,  the  pages  of  history,  this  time  for 
more  than  three  hundred  years  to  the  days  when  "  la  Place  " 
was  surrounded,  not  as  it  is  today  by  stores  dispensing  jew- 
elry, electric  supplies,  books,  music,  millinery,  etc.,  but  by 
the  gabled  houses  and  dimly  lighted  tenements  and  shops  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  we  may  imagine  it  as  it  looked  when  it  was 
the  culminating  center  of  the  curious  religious  festivities 
known  as  "la  Diablerie  de  Chaumont."  These  observances 
grew  up  gradually  after  1475,  ^"  which  year  Pope  Sixtus  iv 
granted  to  the  church  of  St.  Jean-Baptiste  de  Chaumont  a 
plenary  indulgence  called  " le  Grand  Pardon  de  Chaumont" 
under  which  absolution  could  be  granted  to  all  penitents  com- 
ing to  the  church  on  the  festival  of  St.  John  the  Baptist  when 
that  saint's  day  fell  on  a  Sunday.  Great  numbers  of  pilgrims 
were  attracted  to  the  city  from  distant  parts  by  this  easy 
method  of  obtaining  spiritual  pardon  for  any  sin  in  the  deca- 


''Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  83 

logue,  or  out  of  it,  and  their  presence  naturally  proved  a  great 
stimulus  to  business  in  the  city. 

Thus,  to  hold  the  crowds,  added  attractions  were  intro- 
duced and  gradually  developed,  the  chief  ones  taking  the  form 
of  mystery  and  morality  plays  of  a  semireligious  nature,  such 
as  were  in  vogue  at  about  this  period  at  various  places  on  the 
Continent  and  in  England.  Some  of  these  plays,  as,  for  ex- 
ample, Everyman,  have  been  revived  of  late  years  in  some- 
what modernized  form  and  with  marked  success.  Certain  of 
the  early  favorites  at  Chaumont  in  which  priests  as  well  as 
laymen  participated,  were,  The  Morality  of  the  Banquet,  The 
Sacrifice  of  Abraham,  and  one,  the  most  highly  favored  of 
all,  presenting  the  mysteries  of  Monsieur  Sainct  Jehan-Bap- 
tiste.  The  several  scenes  of  these  plays  were  enacted  on  stages 
or  wagons  called  "pageants,"  set  up  on  different  streets  of  the 
city,  the  climax  occurring  on  the  stage  in  the  Grande  Place. 

But  gradually  the  religious  character  of  the  presentations 
was  lost,  more  and  more  vulgarity  and  buffoonery  being  intro- 
duced, while  angels,  saints,  and  even  the  Three  Persons  of 
the  Trinity  vied  for  attention  with  numerous  devils,  imps, 
and  Saracens.  In  the  final  scene,  the  people  crowding  into  the 
Place  were  regaled  with  the  sight  of  a  group  of  devils  shoot- 
ing a  rocket  from  which,  at  a  height  of  several  hundred  feet, 
there  fell  a  puppet  representing  the  soul  of  Herod,  which  was 
conducted  by  a  wire  so  as  to  fall  headlong  into  an  immense 
basin  of  fire,  the  similitude  of  hell,  about  which  the  minions 
of  Satan  danced  in  fiendish  delight.  An  improving  sense  of 
propriety  on  the  part  of  the  public  finally  compelled  the  dis- 
continuance of  "la  Diablerie"  in  the  year  1668. 

Of  the  several  streets  leading  out  of  the  Place  de  I'Hotel  de 
Ville,  the  Rue  Victoire  de  la  Marne,  in  ancient  days  the  Rue  de 
I'Etape,  is  easily  the  most  frequented  and  it  is  lined  with  the 


84  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

city's  most  pretentious  shops  as  well  as  by  a  few  monumental 
buildings.  Animated,  particularly  in  the  long  summer  even- 
ings, with  crowds  of  promenaders,  one  saw  here  in  the  months 
following  the  armistice  the  gradual  reblossoming  of  chic  fem- 
inine fashions  from  the  sober  apparel  of  war-time,  while  a 
rapidly  increasing  array  of  men  in  civilian  dress  replaced  the 
dwindling  numbers  of  uniforms,  French,  American,  British, 
and  Italian,  demobilized  or  departed  for  distant  lands.  Here 
were  those  tailoring  establishments  displaying  in  their  show 
windows  wasp-waisted  olive-drab  blouses,  with  touches  of 
English  swank  in  the  bellows  pockets  and  ample  skirts,  appeal- 
ing, so  said  army  gossip,  particularly  to  American  aviators. 
Here  were  the  lingerie  and  embroidery  shops  with  filmy  laces, 
gaily  embroidered  handkerchiefs,  and  wonderful  cushion  cov- 
ers decorated  with  roses  or  French  and  American  flags  and 
bearing  the  legend  Souvenir  de  la  Guerre,  laid  out  to  attract 
the  eye  of  the  Yankee  lad,  ever  keen  for  just  such  souvenirs 
for  "the  only  girl"  back  in  the  States.  Here  were  the  post- 
office  and  several  of  the  banks  and  that  cozy  cafe  whose  little 
tables,  half  hidden  behind  a  row  of  dwarf  cedars  set  in  big 
green  boxes,  was  much  affected  by  both  officers  and  soldiers 
after  the  toils  of  the  day  were  over.  And  almost  opposite  to 
it  was  the  imposing  Lycee,  part  of  it  temporarily  alienated  to 
the  use  of  a  French  military  hospital  and  part  to  the  American 
post  school. 

Because  the  chapel  of  the  Lycee  was  closed  during  the  war 
perhaps  not  many  Americans  took  the  trouble  to  seek  out  the 
concierge  for  the  purpose  of  gaining  access  to  it.  But  it  was 
well  worth  the  effort  of  a  visit,  for  its  interior  is  a  perfect 
example  of  seventeenth-century  architecture.  Its  dazzling  ex- 
panses of  carved  white  marble  in  walls  and  columns  and 
vaulted  roof  display  a  combination  of  Greek  and  Renaissance 


(t 


Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  85 

forms  in  a  rich  profusion  almost  overpowering  to  the  be- 
holder. The  beautiful  altar  screen  with  its  bas-reliefs  in 
gilded  stone  is  from  the  hand  of  Jean-Baptiste  Bouchardon, 
the  distinguished  seventeenth-  and  early  eighteenth-century 
sculptor  and  architect  of  Chaumont,  whose  sons,  Edme  and 
Philippe,  attained  to  even  greater  fame  than  their  father. 

The  most  notable  work  of  the  elder  Bouchardon  is  in  St. 
Jean's  Church  in  Chaumont.  His  son  Philippe  emigrated  to 
Sweden,  where  he  designed  the  medals  of  the  Swedish  kings. 
Edme,  the  greatest  of  them  all,  was  born  at  Chaumont  in 
1698  and  died  in  1762.  He  passed  some  time  at  Rome,  where 
he  made  the  busts  of  Pope  Clement  xii  and  of  Cardinal  de 
Rohan  and  Cardinal  de  Polignac.  Going  to  Paris,  he  came 
under  the  patronage  of  Louis  xv  and  executed  the  magnifi- 
cent monumental  fountain  in  the  Rue  de  Crenelle  represent- 
ing the  City  of  Paris  seated  between  the  god  of  the  Seine  and 
the  goddess  of  the  Marne;  the  Fountain  of  Neptune  in  the 
Gardens  of  Versailles,  the  Cupid,  and  the  Temple  of  Love  in 
the  same  Gardens  and  many  other  works.  A  few  feet  to  the 
right  of  the  entrance  to  the  Lycee,  in  Chaumont,  on  the  Rue 
Victoire  de  la  Marne,  everyone  who  has  been  in  the  city  will 
recall  the  fountain  dedicated  to  Edme  Bouchardon,  with  its 
handsome  entablature  borne  up  by  two  Corinthian  columns 
and  sheltering  a  bust  of  the  sculptor  on  a  pedestal  at  the  base 
of  which  a  river  nymph,  couched  among  reeds,  holds  the 
pitcher  from  which  the  fountain  flows. 

Farther  along  the  main  thoroughfare  as  it  curves  gradu- 
ally to  the  left  toward  the  Boulingrin  Park,  are  some  fine  old 
tourelle  stairways  and  one  also  passes,  on  the  right,  the  en- 
trance to  another  street  still  bearing  its  curious  medieval 
name — Rue  Cour  dii  Trois  Rots  (Street  of  the  Court  of  the 
Three  Kings).    Almost  opposite  to  it  is  the  Museum,  a  build- 


86  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

ing  massively  constructed  though  not  of  great  size,  which, 
as  heretofore  mentioned,  was  originally  built  as  a  Carmelite 
convent.  Besides  the  collections  of  the  Museum,  it  houses  a 
public  library  of  about  40,000  volumes  and  a  priceless  group 
of  about  150  illuminated  parchment  volumes,  the  work  of 
monks  of  the  Middle  Ages,  most  of  them  resident  in  or 
around  Chaumont,  the  most  valuable  being  those  from  the 
Abbey  of  Val-des-Ecoliers. 

On  the  days  of  the  week  when  the  Museum  was  open  a 
few  American  soldiers  were  generally  to  be  seen  among  the 
visitors  in  its  galleries  of  paintings  and  the  halls  of  statuary 
and  antiquities.  Though  it  possesses  a  number  of  modern 
paintings,  a  finely  preserved  "  Head  of  Christ,"  by  Albrecht 
Diirer  is  its  most  notable  canvas  while,  in  addition  to  copies 
of  Greek  and  Roman  masterpieces  of  statuary,  the  "Adam 
and  Eve"  of  Jules  Etex  is  remarkable.  The  collection  of 
Roman  and  Gallo-Roman  antiquities  excavated  in  northeastern 
France  and  of  sculptures  preserved  from  medieval  churches, 
includes  some  excellent  stone  sarcophagi  and  the  statue  of 
Jean  de  Chateauvillain  from  his  tomb.  In  the  summer  of 
19 1 8  there  stood  in  the  pleasantly  shaded  courtyard  of  the 
Museum,  abutting  on  the  street,  a  contribution  from  the 
American  Forestry  Engineers  then  working  in  the  Forest  of 
Corgebin,  6  or  7  kilometers  southwest  of  Chaumont.  In  dig- 
ging a  well  in  this  venerable  woodland,  which  more  than  seven 
hundred  years  ago  belonged  to  the  Order  of  the  Knights  of 
Malta  who  had  a  chateau  in  its  borders,  the  Americans  un- 
earthed a  handsome  Roman  pedestal  upon  which,  evidently, 
a  statue  once  stood  in  the  grounds  of  the  long-since  vanished 
summer  villa  of  some  aristocratic  Roman.  The  pedestal  was 
turned  over  by  its  New  World  discoverers  to  the  Chaumont 
Museum,  where  it  is  now  preserved. 


"Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  87 

Crossing,  from  the  Museum,  the  broad  esplanade  of  the 
Avenue  Carnot  one  passes  the  Prefecture,  a  stately  stone 
building  of  two  stories  surmounted  by  a  mansard  roof  and 
separated  from  the  street  by  one  of  those  graceful  iron  rail- 
ings with  elaborately  wrought  gates  so  frequently  seen  in 
French  cities,  and  enters  the  shady,  winding  pathways  of  the 
Boulingrin  —  a  name  which  is  merely  the  French  version  of 
the  English  term  "bowling  green."  The  breadth  of  open 
street  before  the  Prefecture  is  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that 
it  covers  the  ground  formerly  occupied  by  the  towers,  the  port- 
cullis, the  drawbridge,  and  the  moat  of  the  Porte  de  Buxer- 
euilles  and,  a  little  farther  to  the  east,  the  still  wider  space 
where  stood  the  Bastion  de  Bracancourt. 

Never  even  by  daylight,  much  less  in  the  evening,  did 
the  secluded  benches  of  the  Boulingrin  fail  of  occupancy  by 
a  certain  number  of  swains  in  olive  drab,  earnestly  endeavor- 
ing in  doughboy  French  to  express  to  the  dark-haired  Chau- 
mont  damsels  by  their  sides  the  depth  and  fervor  of  their 
emotions,  while  these  damsels  as  earnestly  endeavored  to  com- 
prehend and  respond.  The  very  atmosphere  of  the  Boulin- 
grin tempted  to  love-making,  for  was  there  not  before  the  eyes 
of  the  idler  within  its  precincts  that  ornate  fountain  with  its 
shapely  bronze  nymphs  and  chubby  little  cherubs  above  the 
dry  basin,  and  that  exquisite  "Amour"  of  Bouchardon,  replica 
of  the  one  in  the  Temple  of  Love  at  Versailles,  and  the  deli- 
cately modeled  Kiosque  de  nmsiqiie  where  of  a  Sunday  after- 
noon, after  the  armistice,  the  American  General  Headquar- 
ters Band  discoursed  music  for,  apparently,  the  entire  popu- 
lation of  Chaumont  and  all  the  uniformed  strangers  within 
her  gates?  Even  for  those  less  fortunate  than  the  amorous 
occupants  of  the  benches,  the  Boulingrin  was  the  pleasantest 
part  of  the  long  daily  walk  between  town  and  General  Head- 


88  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

quarters,  for  nobody,  it  seemed,  ever  made  that  trip  by  auto- 
mobile excepting  second  lieutenants  and  field  officers  above 
the  grade  of  major. 

Another  and,  to  officers,  still  more  important  oasis  on 
that  caravan  route  so  frequently  beset  by  either  dust  or  mud, 
was  the  Officers'  "  Y  "  Hut  in  the  Place  du  Champ  de  Mars, 
just  beyond  the  Boulingrin;  the  enlisted  men  had  theirs,  as 
jealously  guarded  from  the  encroachments  of  Sam  Browne's, 
nearer  to  Headquarters  on  the  Avenue  des  Etats-Unis.  A 
homelike  place,  indeed,  was  that  Officers'  "Y,"  with  its 
many  snug  little  bedchambers  for  "  casuals  "  and  its  pleasant 
dining-room  with  chintz  curtains  in  the  windows  and  the 
walls  hung  with  American  and  French  war  loan  posters  and 
the  wonderfully  decorative  pictures  of  the  seashore,  the 
mountains,  and  the  Riviera  issued  by  the  Paris-Lyon-Medi- 
terranee  Railroad.  The  dining-room  was  buzzing  every  noon 
and  night  with  a  crowd  of  hungry  patrons  and  every  Friday 
evening  it  was  cleared  for  the  weekly  dance  —  a  democratic 
affair  at  which  a  lieutenant,  if  he  had  sufficient  nerve,  might, 
without  danger  of  being  sent  to  Blois,  tag  a  general  and  take 
away  from  him  a  pretty  nurse  from  the  Base  Hospital,  or  a 
"Y"  girl  from  Jonchery  —  though  it  must  be  confessed  that 
in  such  a  case  he  ran  an  excellent  chance  of  a  very  cool  recep- 
tion from  the  lady  thus  favored.  But,  best  of  all,  was  the  big 
lounging-room  with  its  bookcases  and  writing  desks,  its  long 
tables  heaped  with  periodicals,  the  pictures  on  its  walls,  and 
the  comfortable  chairs  and  settees  which  could,  on  winter  even- 
ings, be  drawn  up  around  the  crackling  cheer  of  the  huge 
double  fireplace.  The  world  was  by  no  means  a  bad  place 
when  one  could  snatch  a  few  moments  of  leisure  from  work 
to  spend  at  the  Officers'  "  Y,"  especially  if  he  passed  part  of 
the  time  in  talk  with  some  of  those  fine,  clean-cut  American 


"Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  89 

women,  who  were  at  all  times  to  be  found  graciously  presid- 
ing over  the  place  and  giving  to  it  the  last  wholesome,  satis- 
fying touch  of  home.  He  would  be  a  captious  critic,  indeed, 
who  would  venture  the  opinion  that  the  "Y"  ever  "fell 
down"  at  the  Officers'  Hut  in  Chaumont. 

Next  door  to  the  Officers'  Hut,  in  the  same  Place  du 
Champ  de  Mars,  was  the  great  "Y"  Entertainment  Hut, 
thronged  to  the  doors  more  evenings  than  not  in  the  winter  of 
1918-19  with  soldier  spectators  for  some  of  the  division 
shows,  boxing  bouts,  performances  of  the  "  Over  There  The- 
ater League,"  lectures,  etc.,  which  provided  a  never-ending 
stream  of  entertainment  during  the  months  of  impatient  wait- 
ing to  go  home.  Not  to  discriminate  but  merely  to  exemplify, 
here  it  was  that  on  one  evening  Colonel  George  C.  Marshall, 
Jr.,  aide-de-camp  to  General  Pershing,  delivered  his  powerful 
lecture  on  the  conduct  and  operations  of  the  American  armies 
in  Europe  before  a  packed  house  which  included  the  Comman- 
der-in-Chief and  Mr.  Secretary  of  War,  Baker.  There,  on 
another  evening  in  the  presence  of  General  Pershing  and  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  the  theatrical  company  of  General  Head- 
quarters again  put  on  the  uproarious  G.  H.  Q.  Revue,  which 
went  with  a  bang  from  start  to  finish  and  so  delighted  the 
royal  guest  of  honor  as  he  sat,  frequently  convulsed  with 
laughter,  between  the  tall  figures  of  General  Pershing  and 
General  McAndrew,  the  American  Chief  of  Staff,  that  proba- 
bly the  most  unsparing  critic  of  royalty  in  the  crowded  hut 
was  obliged  to  admit  that  here  was  as  unassuming  and  pink- 
cheeked  and  good-natured  an  English  lad  as  could  have  been 
found  in  any  British  billet  town  between  Dunkirk  and  Le 
Havre. 

At  another  time,  on  December  24,  19 18,  the  Entertainment 
Hut  was  the  scene  of  that  whole-souled  "  Merry  Christmas 


90  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

for  the  Kiddies  of  Chaumont,"  in  which  the  American  sol- 
diers stationed  there  showed  to  their  2,000  small  guests  in  a 
little  play  written  by  the  present  author  and  produced  by 
Dorothy  Donnelly,  just  how  the  day  of  good  cheer  is  observed 
in  the  United  States,  and  bestowed  upon  each  youngster  from 
beneath  the  boughs  of  a  mighty  Christmas  tree  whose  upper 
branches,  spangled  with  tinsel  and  colored  lights,  brushed 
the  high  ceiling,  toys  and  bags  of  candy  to  gladden  every 
childish  heart,  too  many  of  which  had  long  been  deprived  of 
such  joys  by  the  rigid  economies  of  war-time. 

Since  the  departure  of  America's  hosts  the  Place  du 
Champ  de  Mars,  once  so  crowded  with  their  flimsy  temporary 
buildings,  is  denuded  again.  But  its  wide  expanse  is  to  be 
the  site  of  the  memorial  monument  to  the  American  occupa- 
tion of  Chaumont,  the  structure  being  the  joint  fruit  of  appro- 
priations by  the  municipal  and  departmental  governments  and 
of  popular  subscriptions  from  all  the  towns  and  villages  of 
the  Haute-Marne;  an  abiding  evidence  of  the  bond,  never  to 
be  broken,  binding  Chaumont  in  sentiment  with  the  Republic 
of  the  West. 

The  attractive  Chateau  Gloriette,,  General  Pershing's  resi- 
dence during  the  autumn,  and  winter  of  19 17- 18  and,  a  year 
later,  the  hospitable  home  of  the  Y.  W.  C.  A.  workers  in  the 
Chaumont  region,  stands  on  the  edge  of  the  hill  near  the  north 
end  of  the  Champ  de  Mars  and,  opposite  to  it,  the  glove 
factory  of  Trefousse  and  Company,  the  largest  of  Chaumont's 
industrial  plants,  a  great  proportion  of  whose  product  has 
for  many  years  been  marketed  in  the  leading  stores  of  a  num- 
ber of  American  cities.  By  the  gates  of  the  glove  factory 
begins  the  long  avenue  of  trees  with  a  broad  promenade  in 
the  center  and  roadways  on  either  side,  formerly  called  the 
Avenue  du  Fort  Lambert  but  now  rechristened  the  Avenue 


^'Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  91 

des  Etats-Unis  because  it  leads  to  the  Caserne  Damremont, 
the  seat  of  the  American  General  Headquarters. 

Along  this  thoroughfare  one  often  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  detachments  of  German  prisoners  of  war  "manicur- 
ing the  roads"  and  keeping  them  in  first-class  order  for  the 
processions  of  trucks,  automobiles,  and  pedestrians  in  uniform 
who  were  constantly  hurrying  back  and  forth  along  this  main 
artery.  The  avenue  passed  the  commodious  "Y"  Hut  for 
enlisted  men,  which  stood  across  the  way  from  the  barracks 
long  occupied  by  a  battalion  of  the  Sixth  Marines,  the  Gen- 
eral Headquarters  garage  and  that  usually  crowded  motor 
transport  park  which,  one  morning  late  in  May,  19 18,  to 
everyone's  surprise,  was  utterly  deserted  because,  as  appeared 
later,  the  trucks  had  rushed  north  during  the  night  loaded  to 
capacity  with  small  arms  ammunition  for  the  Second  Division 
then  just  coming  into  line  west  of  Chateau-Thierry  for  its 
immortal  stand  that  stopped  the  Germans  in  their  march  toward 
Paris.  Next  to  the  motor  transport  park  and  across  the  street 
from  the  gateways  of  the  caserne  lay  the  long  barracks  of 
Camp  Babcock,  thoroughly  concealed  behind  a  high  old  wall, 
while  farther  down  the  tree-arched  roadway  came  the  French 
portion  of  the  caserne,  American  fuel  yards,  carpenter  and 
blacksmith  shops,  the  Post  Quartermaster's  building,  the  local 
Gas  Defense  School  and,  finally,  ever-smoldering  incinerators 
out  on  the  bluff  point  overlooking  the  meadows  where  the 
Suize  joins  the  Marne;  the  point  which  in  the  thirties  of  the 
last  century  carried  the  ramparts  of  Fort  Lambert  at  a  time 
when  the  national  government  entertained  an  intention,  later 
abandoned,  of  making  Chaumont,  as  well  as  Langres,  a  fort- 
ress of  the  second  line  of  defense  against  Germany  on  the 
northeastern  frontier. 

But  it  was  by  passing  through  the  gateway  into  the  great 


92  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

quadrangle  of  the  Caserne  Damremont,  shaded  on  three  sides 
by  well-trimmed  trees,  that  one  reached,  literally,  the  heart 
of  the  American  Expeditionary  Forces.  From  the  front  line 
of  the  battle  zones  back  to  the  farthest  port,  the  vital  func- 
tions of  the  American  Army  were  controlled  absolutely,  in 
their  larger  aspects,  from  the  three  plain,  four-story  buildings 
which  face  the  inner  quadrangle  on  its  western,  its  northern, 
and  its  southern  sides.  These  barracks  buildings  were,  before 
the  American  occupation,  and  continued  to  be  after  the  Amer- 
ican evacuation,  the  rendezvous  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Ninth 
Regiment  of  French  Infantry  and  the  caserne  was  named  in 
honor  of  General  Charles  Marie  Denis  Damremont,  a  distin- 
guished French  commander  during  the  conquest  of  Algeria  in 
North  Africa,  who  was  killed  at  the  head  of  his  troops  in  the 
storming  of  the  city  of  Constantine,  Algeria,  on  October  12, 

1837- 

The  circumstances  which  lead  to  the  location  of  American 
General  Headquarters  in  Damremont  Barracks  and,  indeed,  in 
Chaumont,  were  not  altogether  simple,  for  at  first  thought  it 
would  seem  that  any  one  of  a  number  of  cities  in  the  same 
general  region  might  have  served  as  well.  The  decision  of 
General  Pershing  to  make  the  portion  of  the  Western  Front 
lying  between  the  Argonne  Forest  and  the  Moselle  River  the 
scene  of  the  future  operations  of  the  American  armies,  was 
reached  very  soon  after  his  arrival  in  France  in  the  summer  of 
1917.  The  choice  of  this  front  after  conference  with  the  other 
Allied  high  commanders  and  the  selection  of  seaports  and 
lines  of  railroad  communication  best  suited  to  serve  it,  indicated 
the  necessity  of  establishing  the  General  Headquarters  at  some 
point  in  northeastern  France  within  easy  reach  of  the  front 
and  yet  centrally  located  with  relation  to  the  lines  of  commu- 
nication, the  training  areas  for  troops  and  the  great  supply 


''Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  93 

depots  and  manifold  industrial  plants  which  were  to  be  devel- 
oped for  the  use  of  the  coming  hosts  of  America. 

Yet  this  point  must  have  at  once  good  road  and  rail  con- 
nections with  all  the  places  mentioned,  accommodations  for 
very  extensive  offices,  billeting  and  barrack  facilities  for  a 
large  number  of  officers  and  men  and  a  location  both  health- 
ful and  physically  attractive,  so  that  no  avoidable  handicaps 
might  operate  to  reduce  the  maximum  efficiency  of  the  selected 
men  who  would  be  gathered  there,  most  of  them  because  of 
proved  capacity  for  some  branch  of  general  staff  work.  Some 
other  cities  possessed  some  of  these  requirements,  but  none 
save  Chaumont  possessed  them  all.  It  was  approximately  60 
miles  from  the  selected  American  front  and  thus  nearer  than 
either  the  French  or  the  British  General  Headquarters  to  their 
fronts,  its  railways  and  highways  gave  easy  communication  in 
every  direction,  its  many  comfortable  houses,  for  it  was  a 
place  of  16,000  people,  offered  ample  and  pleasant  quarters 
for  the  personnel,  its  salubrious  location  in  the  beautiful  up- 
land country  of  the  High  Marne  together  with  its  many  open 
spaces  of  boulevard  and  park,  assured  both  health  and  con- 
tentment to  those  who  would  reside  there,  while,  finally,  the 
large  and  airy  buildings  of  Damremont  Barracks,  situated  on 
the  high  crest  overlooking  the  lovely  scenery  of  the  river  val- 
leys and  the  uplands  beyond,  provided,  ready-made,  ideal 
quarters  for  the  creation  and  expansion  of  the  offices  of  a 
great  staff  organization.  Thus  upon  Chaumont  fell  the  choice 
and  with  the  arrival  there  of  the  American  Commander-in- 
Chief  and  his,  as  yet,  small  corps  of  assistants,  early  in  Sep- 
tember, 19 1 7,  began  the  most  important  epoch  in  Chaumont's 
long  existence.  In  the  course  of  a  few  months  the  various 
departments  were  settled  and  functioning  in  the  quarters 
which  they  continued  to  occupy  until  July  15,   1919,  when 


94  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

General  Headquarters  departed  from  Chaumont  to  return  to 
the  United  States. 

The  geometrical  as  well  as  the  administrative  center  of  G. 
H.  Q.,  as  General  Headquarters  was  usually  termed,  was  in 
"  B  "  Building,  the  middle  one  facing  the  gateway,  where  on 
the  second  floor  at  the  head  of  the  main  stairway  was  General 
Pershing's  private  office,  flanked  by  those  of  his  personal  aides. 
The  general's  office  was  distinguished  from  most  others 
merely  by  having  a  well-carpeted  floor  and  some  upholstered 
furniture,  this  unwonted  luxury  being  amply  justified  by  the 
fact  that  here  the  "  C-in-C "  constantly  received  and  con- 
sulted with  the  most  important  personages  in  the  military  and 
civil  life  of  the  Allied  nations.  Opposite  to  the  general's 
office  on  the  other  side  of  the  hallway,  which,  like  those  in  all 
the  buildings,  ran  the  full  length  of  the  structure  with  offices 
on  both  sides  of  it,  were  the  offices  of  the  Chief  of  Staff,  first 
occupied  by  Major  General  James  G.  Harbord,  before  he 
departed  to  take  command,  first  of  the  Marine  Brigade  and 
then  of  the  Second  Division  during  the  Marne  defensive  and 
counter-offensive,  and  later  to  continue  his  distinguished  ser- 
vice as  Commanding  General  of  the  Services  of  Supply  at 
Tours.  General  Harbord  was  succeeded  at  Chaumont  by 
Major  General  James  W.  McAndrew  who  served  with  great 
ability  as  Chief  of  Staff  throughout  the  rest  of  the  war  and 
until  late  in  the  spring  of  19 19,  when  Major-General  Harbord 
for  a  brief  period  resumed  the  position.  Next  door  to  the 
Chief  of  Staff  was  the  office  of  the  Deputy  Chief  of  Staff, 
General  Leroy  Eltinge, 

In  the  office  of  the  Chief  of  Staff  occurred  the  daily  morn- 
ing conferences  between  the  Chief  of  Staff  and  the  Assistant 
Chiefs  of  Staff  of  the  "  5  Gs,"  as  the  sections  of  the  General 
Staff  were  familiarly  called.     At  these  conferences  were  dis- 


''Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  95 

cussed  and  decided  the  many  momentous  questions  constantly 
arising  with  regard  to  the  administration,  movements,  and 
supply  of  the  American  forces;  the  questions,  that  is,  which 
involved  action  by  more  than  one  staff  section,  and  those 
which  were  not  decided  without  consultation  by  the  Comman- 
der-in-Chief himself.  The  relation  of  the  several  sections  to 
the  general  problems  of  the  campaign  will  be  better  under- 
stood if  the  functions  of  each  are  briefly  outlined,  at  the 
same  time  that  their  location  in  Damremont  Barracks  is 
recalled. 

The  First  Section,  which  began  work  under  the  command 
of  Colonel  James  A.  Logan,  who  was  succeeded  by  Brigadier 
General  A.  D.  Andrews,  had  its  offices  on  the  lower  floors  in 
the  left  end  of  "  A  "  Building,  at  the  south  of  the  quadrangle, 
where  the  walls  of  most  of  its  rooms  were  decorated  with  a 
bewildering  array  of  charts  and  "graphs,"  in  black  and  white 
and  variegated  colors.  The  First  Section  supervized  the  organ- 
ization and  equipment  of  troops,  ocean  tonnage,  and  priority 
of  shipments,  replacements  of  men  and  animals,  the  Provost 
Marshal's  service,  the  Military  Welfare  societies,  etc.,  and 
prepared  strength  reports  and  the  American  order  of  battle. 

The  Fourth  Section  was  at  first  headed  by  Colonel  W.  D. 
Conner  who,  going  to  command  the  Sixty-third  Infantry  Bri- 
gade, Thirty-second  Division,  was  succeeded  in  May,  19 18, 
by  Brigadier  General  George  Van  Horn  Moseley.  This  sec- 
tion was  also  housed  in  "A"  Building,  occupying  a  greater 
part  of  its  right  end.  Among  the  activities  of  the  Fourth 
Section  were :  the  control  of  supply,  construction,  and  trans- 
portation in  France;  supply  and  transportation  arrangements 
for  combat;  hospitalization  and  evacuation  of  sick  and 
wounded;  assignment  of  labor  and  labor  troops  and  assign- 
ment of  new  units  arriving  in  France. 


96  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

Finally,  "A"  Building  contained  on  its  upper  floors  the 
offices  and  the  vast  accumulations  of  papers  of  the  Adjutant 
General  of  the  American  Expeditionary  Forces,  who  was  at 
first  General  Benjamin  Alvord  and  later  General  Robert  C. 
Davis.  In  the  big  document  rooms  of  the  Adjutant  General's 
offices  the  maddening  search  through  interminable  filing  cab- 
inets for  letters,  file  copies,  originals,  duplicates,  which  seemed 
always  to  be  demanded  unexpectedly  and  for  instant  delivery 
by  every  other  office  in  General  Headquarters,  was  relent- 
lessly pursued  from,  approximately,  daylight  until  dark  by 
some  60  officers  and  70x3  enlisted  men.  The  Adjutant  Gen- 
eral's Printing  Plant,  which  printed  all  General  Orders  and 
a  multitude  of  other  documents,  was  located  on  the  first  floor 
of  "  B  "  Building. 

The  largest  and  probably  the  most  complex  of  the  General 
Staff  sections  was  the  Second,  or  Intelligence,  Section,  whose 
offices  occupied  the  left  wing  of  "  B  "  Building  and  ramified 
into  "  C  "  Building  and  into  sundry  temporary  Adrians  adja- 
cent to  the  caserne.  Throughout  the  war  the  Intelligence  Sec- 
tion was  in  charge  of  General  Dennis  E.  Nolan.  Only  once, 
to  certain  knowledge,  did  he  take  a  vacation.  That  was  during 
the  battle  of  the  Meuse-Argonne.  He  spent  it  pleasantly  in 
commanding  a  brigade  in  the  Twenty-eighth  Division  with 
which  he  captured  the  Heights  of  Chatel-Chehery,  flanking 
the  enemy  out  of  the  Argonne  Forest  and,  incidentally,  win- 
ning for  himself  the  Distinguished  Service  Cross  by  leading 
a  handful  of  tanks  in  an  early  morning  counter-attack  on  the 
enemy  in  the  valley  of  the  Aire  River.  The  Intelligence  Sec- 
tion had. charge  of  accumulating,  classifying,  and  distributing 
all  information  concerning  the  enemy's  troops  and  his  military 
and  economic  resources;  of  the  secret  service  and  counter- 
espionage, of  the  censorship,  the  preparation  and  distribution 


"Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  97 

of  maps,  including  the  daily  maps  of  the  enemy  order  of 
battle,  and  the  daily  issue  of  a  number  of  intelligence  pubHca- 
tions  embracing  the  Press  Review,  the  Summary  of  Informa- 
tion and  the  Summary  of  Intelligence.  The  section  also  had 
supervision  of  the  greatest  publication  of  all,  the  weekly  Stars 
and  Stripes,  the  official  American  Army  newspaper,  whose 
extensive  offices  of  publication  were  in  Paris. 

Many  of  the  Intelligence  Section  offices  in  "B"  Building 
resembled  in  every  particular  the  offices  of  a  large  daily  Amer- 
ican newspaper  excepting  that  all  the  workers  were  in  uni- 
form. But  probably  the  most  interesting  place  of  all  was  the 
Order  of  Battle  Room,  where  day  and  night,  officers  stood 
before  the  huge  maps  of  the  Western  Front  which  covered 
the  walls,  marking  upon  them  by  means  of  little  oblong  iden- 
tification cards  the  location  and  movements  of  the  enemy's 
divisions,  as  information  concerning  them  came  in  constantly 
from  the  front  or  from  the  headquarters  of  other  Allied 
armies,  by  our  own  wireless  or  interceptions  of  German  wire- 
less, by  telephone  or  telegraph,  airplanes,  or  special  couriers. 
This  data,  together  with  all  other  important  facts  which  were 
ascertained  concerning  the  strength,  condition,  or  intentions 
of  the  enemy's  combat  units  were  classified  and  sent  daily  to 
the  headquarters  of  the  American  armies,  corps,  and  divisions 
in  line,  in  order  to  keep  them  constantly  and  accurately 
informed. 

The  lower  floors  in  the  right  wing  of  "  B  "  Building  were 
occupied  by  G-3,  the  Operations  Section,  first  commanded  by 
Colonel  John  McAuley  Palmer,  who,  on  going  to  a  command 
in  the  field,  was  succeeded  by  General  Fox  Conner.  All  the 
vital  matters  concerning  the  actual  combat  operations  of  our 
troops,  strategic  studies  and  plans,  orders,  artillery  concen- 
trations, and  allotments  of  guns  and  ammunition,  employment 


98  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

of  the  air  service,  liaison  within  our  own  forces  and  between 
them  and  the  AlHed  armies;  movements,  location,  and  com- 
position of  combat  troops,  reconnaissances,  security,  and 
information  at  the  front,  the  issue  of  daily  situation  maps  of 
our  own  forces  and  the  collection  and  classification  of  reports 
of  operations,  were  among  the  responsibilities  of  General 
Conner's  section.  As  in  G-2,  maps  were  the  most  conspicuous 
feature  of  the  furnishings  of  the  Operations  Section  offices; 
maps  contoured  and  hachured,  printed,  photographed,  mimeo- 
graphed, and  hand-drawn,  the  chief  difference  appearing  to 
be  that  in  the  Intelligence  Section  a  majority  of  the  maps 
seemed  to  cover  the  walls,  where  they  could  be  contemplated, 
while  in  G-3  a  majority  covered  tables  and  desks,  where  they 
could  be  pored  over  with  pencil  and  dividers. 

Up  under  the  mansard  roof  of  "B"  Building  were  the 
quarters  of  the  Fifth,  or  Training,  Section,  directed  prior  to 
February,  19 18,  by  Colonel  Paul  B.  Malone,  who  in  that 
month  went  to  the  front  to  become  the  pugnacious  comman- 
der, first,  of  the  Twenty-third  Infantry,  Second  Division,  and 
then  of  the  Tenth  Infantry  Brigade,  Fifth  Division.  He  was 
succeeded  in  charge  of  the  Training  Section  by  General  Harold 
B.  Fiske.  General  Fiske's  section  evolved  the  doctrine  of 
instruction  and  training  for  the  American  Expeditionary 
Forces  and  controlled  its  application  throughout  the  American 
training  areas  and  schools.  It  was  in  general  charge  of  the 
Army  Schools  at  Langres  and  it  prepared  and  issued  all  train- 
ing manuals,  conducted  inspections  to  insure  thoroughness  of 
training  throughout  the  army  and,  in  consultation  with  the 
Operations  Section,  determined  the  organization  and  equip- 
ment of  troops.  In  the  winter  of  1918-19  the  Training  Sec- 
tion, with  the  discontinuance  of  training  for  battle,  inaugu- 
rated and  supervised  the  huge  programs  of  athletic  contests 


"Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  99 

throughout  the  American  Expeditionary  Forces  culminating 
in  June  and  July,  1919,  in  the  Inter-Allied  Games  at  Pershing 
Stadium,  Paris. 

The  five  sections  whose  functions  have  just  been  outlined, 
with  their  hundreds  of  officers,  enlisted  men,  and  field  clerks, 
constituted  the  General  Staff  organization  proper  of  the  Amer- 
ican Expeditionary  Forces.  But  there  were,  in  addition,  num- 
erous administrative  and  technical  services  of  the  army  which 
maintained  their  main  offices  or  at  least  liaison  offices  at  Gen- 
eral Headquarters,  many  of  them  occupying  rooms  in  "C" 
Building,  at  the  north  of  the  quadrangle,  or  in  some  of  the 
smaller,  adjacent  buildings  in  the  caserne.  Among  these  were 
the  main  offices  of  the  Inspector  General  and  the  Judge  Ad- 
vocate General  of  the  American  Expeditionary  Forces  and 
liaison  offices  of  the  Engineer  Corps,  the  Medical  Corps  and 
the  Signal  Corps,  the  Air  Service  and  the  Ordinance  Depart- 
ment, whose  headquarters  were  at  Tours.  In  "  C  "  Building 
were  likewise  housed  the  Italian  Mission  to  American  General 
Headquarters,  under  General  Perelli,  and  the  Belgian  Mission, 
under  Colonel  Tinant.  The  British  Mission,  whose  chief  was 
General  C.  M.  Wagstaflf,  was  located  in  the  southern  of  two 
buildings  at  the  main  entrance  to  the  caserne,  while  the  French 
Mission,  the  largest  of  any  of  the  foreign  missions,  under 
General  Ragneau,  had  a  commodious  building  of  its  own 
down  town  on  the  Rue  Decres. 

West,  south,  and  east  of  Damremont  Barracks,  every 
available  space  was  filled  with  the  long  Adrian  barracks  of 
American  troops  connected  in  one  way  or  another  with  Gen- 
eral Headquarters,  and  on  the  frequent  occasions  of  ceremony 
or  entertainment  in  the  quadrangle,  the  show  place  par  excel- 
lence for  such  functions,  they  could  disgorge  an  impressive 
number  of  men  in  olive  drab  both  as  participants  and  as  spec- 


lOO        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

tators.  When  there  occurred  such  an  event  as  the  bestowal 
upon  General  Pershing  of  the  Grand  Cross  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor  by  President  Poincare,  the  parade  ground  would  be 
surrounded  by  solid  ranks  of  American  and  French  troops, 
backed  by  a  throng  of  spectators,  both  soldiers  and  townspeo- 
ple, while  the  superb  General  Headquarters'  Band,  "  General 
Pershing's  Own,"  supported  by  some  French  regimental  band, 
would  discourse  martial  music,  the  bugle  corps  of  the  two 
organizations,  in  particular,  vying  with  each  other  to  produce 
the  most  amazing  flourishes  on  their  instruments.  Many 
decorations  of  officers  and  soldiers  by  the  American  military 
authorities  or  by  the  representatives  of  Allied  governments, 
took  place  in  this  spot,  especially  during  the  winter  and  spring 
of  1919.  There  at  different  times  President  Wilson,  King 
Albert  and  Queen  Elizabeth  of  Belgium,  Marshal  Haig,  and 
the  Prince  of  Wales  were  formally  welcomed  to  General 
Headquarters  and  there,  on  one  winter  afternoon,  slender  little 
Elsie  Janis,  quite  alone,  for  more  than  an  hour  kept  in  an 
uproar  of  merriment  a  crowd  which  filled  every  foot  of  space 
within  sound  of  her  voice. 

But  the  popular  daily  events,  unless  the  weather  was  rainy, 
were  Guard  Mount,  at  11  :oo  o'clock  a.  m.  and  the  concert  by 
the  General  Headquarters  Band,  from  12:30  to  1:30  p.  m. 
Guard  mount  was  always  a  finished  and  snappy  performance 
while,  at  the  hour  of  the  concert,  a  large  percentage  of  the 
headquarters  personnel  was  always  to  be  found,  spending  the 
few  leisure  moments  following  the  noon  meal,  beneath  the 
trees  or  around  the  covered  band  stand  in  front  of  "  B " 
Building  while  the  85  or  90  musicians,  selected  as  the  best  in 
the  American  Expeditionary  Forces,  rendered  a  musical  pro- 
gram which  no  band  in  the  United  States  could  excel.  From 
this  same  quadrangle,  while  the  war  continued,  through  all 


''Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  loi 

the  hours  of  darkness  of  winter  or  summer  nights,  Hghts  could 
be  seen  twinkhng  around  the  edges  of  the  black  curtains  in 
some  of  the  windows  of  each  barracks  building,  showing 
where  work  continued  throughout  the  twenty-four  hours. 

This,  in  the  briefest  sort  of  outline,  was  General  Head- 
quarters, American  Expeditionary  Forces,  the  center  of  the 
complex  staff  organization  which  for  nearly  two  years  con- 
trolled the  destinies  of  an  American  army  amounting,  at  its 
maximum,  to  over  2,125,000  men;  an  organization  whose 
decisions  and  utterances  were  awaited  eagerly  during  that  time 
by  the  people  of  the  United  States  and  upon  whose  foresight, 
efficiency,  and  firmness,  it  may  fairly  be  said,  the  destinies  of 
the  world  for  a  time  depended.  As  was  in  keeping  with  the 
power  of  America's  effort  and  the  magnitude  of  her  army, 
the  General  Staff  at  Chaumont  was  the  greatest  and  undoubt- 
edly the  most  competent  staff  organization  which  our  nation 
ever  possessed.  Furthermore,  there  is  probably  no  officer  or 
enlisted  man  who  had  the  high  privilege  of  serving  with  that 
organization  for  any  length  of  time  who  would  not  acknowl- 
edge that  in  that  group  of  regular  and  temporary  officers, 
representing  the  highest  degree  of  military,  professional,  and 
technical  ability  in  the  many  lines  requisite  for  the  prosecution 
of  modern  warfare,  were  assembled  the  finest  and  most  repre- 
sentative body  of  American  gentlemen  and  men  of  affairs 
whom  he  ever  saw  gathered  in  one  group  of  like  size.  Such 
groups  are  not  drawn  together  by  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life; 
only  patriotism  —  the  single  desire  to  serve  their  native  land 
to  the  exclusion  of  all  else  —  could  ever  have  assembled  such 
a  body,  or  can  ever  again  assemble  such  another. 

Retracing  our  steps  from  Damremont  Barracks  down  the 
Avenue  des  Etats-Unis,  over  whose  broad,  cindered  prome- 
nade the  sunlight,  sifting  through  the  trees,  weaves  a  pattern 


I02        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

of  moving  leaves,  and  turning  to  the  right  past  the  Museum, 
one  comes,  at  the  next  corner,  to  the  Rue  Bouchardon.  Its 
curving  length  of  cobbles  arrives,  after  a  few  hundred  feet, 
at  a  high  stone  entrance  opening  upon  a  wide  stairway.  Mount- 
ing this  stairway  to  the  second  floor,  past  a  stained-glass  win- 
dow depicting  the  signing  of  the  Treaty  of  Chaumont  on  March 
I,  1814,  one  enters  the  rooms  of  the  Cercle  Militaire  des 
Armees  Alliees :  the  Inter- Allied  Military  Club.  Before  the 
American  occupation  these  pleasant  quarters  were  devoted  to 
the  use  of  the  French  officers  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Ninth 
Infantry  and  others  on  duty  in  Chaumont,  but  they  threw  the 
doors  wide  to  their  brother  officers  of  the  Allied  armies  and 
in  19 18  and  19 19  the  place  was  much  more  frequented  by 
Americans  than  by  French.  Two  card-rooms,  a  small  bar, 
and  a  big,  quiet  reading-  and  writing-room,  its  massive  center 
table  furnished  with  a  good  selection  of  current  periodicals 
French,  English,  and  American;  this  was  the  extent  of  the 
Military  Club.  The  deep  leather  chairs  of  the  reading  room 
and  the  crackling  fire  burning  in  the  fireplace,  handsomely 
carved  above,  rendered  the  place  a  favorite  resort  for  those 
desirous  of  a  quiet  hour,  especially  in  the  evenings  of  winter 
when  most  billets,  however  comfortable  in  other  respects, 
were  apt  to  be  as  cold  as  sepulchers.  To  those  more  convi- 
vially  inclined,  the  card-rooms  offered  an  atmosphere  of 
greater  congeniality  where  among  the  devotees  of  the  varied 
sports  of  the  green-felt-covered  tables  might  be  found  both 
those  who  sip  the  austere  pleasures  of  chess  and  those  who 
prefer,  with  more  tempestuous  emotions,  to  "  read  'em  and 
weep." 

The  remainder  of  the  handsome  building  whose  second 
floor  was  occupied  by  the  Cercle  Militaire  was  the  American 
Guest  House,  at  which  many  visitors  to  General  Headquarters 


''Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  103 

were  housed  and  fed  both  during  and  after  the  war.  A  cer- 
tain, and  not  very  Hmited,  number  of  General  Headquarters 
officers  will  recall,  either  with  pleasure  or  a  slight  suggestion 
of  headache,  as  the  case  may  be,  the  fraternal  celebration  of 
Bastille  Day,  July  14,  19 18,  which  occurred,  chiefly,  in  the 
courtyard  of  the  Guest  House.  The  refreshments,  it  may  be 
remembered,  consisted  of  sandwiches  and  champagne.  Nev- 
ertheless, the  next  day  everyone  was  busy  again  for  that  was 
the  day  when  Fritz  hit  the  line  along  the  Marne  and  east  of 
Reims  —  and  lost  the  ball  on  downs. 

A  still  more  important  event  than  this  celebration  of  Bas- 
tille Day,  however,  occurred  in  the  Guest  House  104  years 
earlier,  when  this  building  was  occupied  by  Lord  Castlereagh, 
the  British  representative  to  the  chancellories  of  Russia,  Prus- 
sia, and  Austria  while  the  armies  of  these  Allied  powers 
were  engaged  in  their  final  mighty  struggle  with  Napoleon. 
During  the  fluctuating  campaign  the  monarchs  of  the  three 
nations,  with  their  prime  ministers  and  military  staffs,  rested 
for  some  time  at  Chaumont  and  it  was  in  the  salon  of  Lord 
Castlereagh's  house,  on  March  i,  1814,  that  the  Treaty  of 
Chaumont  was  signed  by  that  minister  acting  for  Great  Brit- 
ain, Prince  Metternich  for  Austria,  Count  Nesselrode  for 
Russia,  and  Prince  Hardenburg  for  Prussia.  By  the  Treaty 
of  Chaumont,  done  in  all  the  dark  secrecy  dear  to  the  medie- 
val diplomacy  of  autocratic  governments,  the  contracting  pow- 
ers solemnly  agreed  not  to  cease  warfare  against  France,  still 
flaming  with  democracy  and  revolt  against  the  old  order  of 
things  despite  the  imperial  form  of  her  own  government, 
until  she  should  be  reduced  to  the  boundaries  held  by  her  at 
the  beginning  of  the  Revolution  of  1789.  Pending  the  accom- 
plishment of  this  aim,  each  of  the  three  continental  powers 
agreed   to  keep   150,000  men  constantly  in  the  field,   while 

8 


104        ^^^  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

Great  Britain  promised  to  furnish  the  coalition  with  an  annual 
subsidy  of  120,000,000  pounds;  an  almost  fabulous  sum  in 
those  days.  With  the  final  overthrow  of  Napoleon,  this  nefa- 
rious conspiracy  against  France  was  carried  out  to  the  letter, 
setting  back  for  many  years  the  cause  of  human  liberty,  not 
so  much  in  France,  where  it  could  not  be  suppressed,  but  in 
Europe  at  large. 

During  the  period  in  which  the  Treaty  of  Chaumont  was 
perfected.  Czar  Alexander  of  Russia  maintained  his  resi- 
dence in  the  secluded  Chateau  of  Chamarandes,  lying  on  an 
attractively  parked  island  in  the  Marne.  The  imperial  visi- 
tor appears  to  have  treated  the  family  of  the  Marquis  of 
Chamarandes  with  great  courtesy  and  many  souvenirs  of  his 
sojourn  there  are  preserved  in  the  long  salon,  the  curious  old 
library,  and  the  other  apartments  of  the  chateau,  one  of  them 
being  a  life-size  likeness  of  the  then  marchioness  and  her 
daughter,  painted  by  the  czar's  portraitist,  an  aide  on  his  staff, 
and  presented  to  the  lady  mentioned.  In  the  summer  and  fall 
of  1918  foreign  officers  were  again  billeted  in  the  Chateau  of 
Chamarandes  but,  though  not  of  royal  lineage,  they  were 
much  more  welcome  to  the  family  residing  there,  of  which, 
indeed,  in  all  respects  of  cordiality,  they  might  well  have  been 
members.  These  officers  were  two  young  lieutenants  from 
Chicago,  of  whom  one  was  the  town  major  of  Chamarandes. 
Within  the  luxurious  chambers  in  which  they  lodged,  fitted 
with  gilded  Louis  Quinze  furniture  and  rare  tapestries,  they 
breezily  admitted  that  they  were  "  sitting  on  the  world  "  and 
didn't  care  how  long  that  sort  of  a  war  lasted. 

A  few  hundred  yards  down  the  Rue  Bouchardon  and 
across  the  end  of  the  Rue  Girardon,  a  narrow  alleyway  runs 
around  beneath  the  eaves  of  the  Church  of  St.  Jean-Baptiste. 
The  pathway  constitutes  a  short  cut  into  the  Rue  St.  Jean 


.-  -—  .  r. 


The  Rue  Saint  Jean,  Chaumont 


[Page  IO4] 


Where  Chamarandes  drowses  beneath  the  Chaumont  hill 

[Page  IO4] 


"Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  105 

and  issues  upon  that  street  beside  the  south  portal  of  the 
church,  an  exquisite  example  of  Renaissance  architecture 
incrusted  with  delicately  modeled  stonework  and  bas-reliefs 
of  biblical  characters  surrounding  and  surmounting  the  time- 
worn  doors,  which  in  themselves  display  remarkably  rich 
wood  carving.  In  marked  contrast  to  this  elaborate  entrance 
is  the  main,  or  west  portal,  lying  between  the  towers  and 
forming,  with  the  towers  themselves,  the  oldest  portion  of 
the  church,  wrought  with  the  severe  simplicity  of  the  twelfth 
century. 

The  interior  of  St.  Jean's,  as  it  is  smaller,  is  also  less  awe- 
inspiring  than  those  of  the  great  French  cathedrals.  A  cer- 
tain warmth  of  tone  in  its  stonework  and  soft  blending  of  the 
side  chapels  into  the  nave  and  choir,  and  of  the  massive,  clus- 
tered columns  into  the  groins  of  the  roof,  together  with  the 
subdued  light  which  filters  through  its  rich  old  stained  glass 
by  day  and  the  not  too  garish  illumination  of  its  candelabra 
at  night,  lend  to  the  ancient  edifice  an  atmosphere  of  venera- 
ble friendliness  very  rarely  to  be  found  in  a  church  of  such 
really  majestic  proportions.  Passing,  on  a  summer  afternoon, 
from  the  white  sunshine  and  the  workaday  noises  of  the  street 
into  the  cool,  hushed  twilight  of  these  sacred  precincts,  it 
would  be  a  cynical  person,  indeed,  who  could  fail  to  feel  a 
reverent  quieting  of  the  spirit  as  he  looked  about  him.  Directly 
before  him,  with  perhaps  a  ray  of  filtered  sunlight  across  her 
earnest,  upturned  face,  stood,  in  its  little  chapel,  Desvergnes' 
slender,  armored  figure  of  Jeanne  d'Arc,  the  shaft  of  her 
upright  banner  in  her  hands  and,  at  her  feet,  a  pitiful  little 
cluster  of  prayer  offerings  and  of  half-burned  candles  left  by 
those  anxious  parents  and  wives  and  sweethearts  and  chil- 
dren who  knelt  to  her  for  the  safety  of  their  menfolk,  fight- 
ing for  France  in  the  far-off  trenches  of  the  battle  line.  Mid- 


lo6         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

way  of  the  nave  the  wonderful  carved  flowers,  wreaths,  and 
human  and  angelic  figures  wrought  by  Bouchardon,  the  elder, 
on  the  high  pulpit  and  the  churchwarden's  bench,  stood  etched 
against  the  towering  pillars  while  far  down  the  side  aisles 
past  the  various  chapels  whose  walls  were  rich  with  time- 
darkened  paintings,  among  them  one  by  Andrea  del  Sarto, 
the  faint  flicker  of  candles  in  the  chapels  behind  the  great 
altar  intensified  the  darkness  of  those  secluded  recesses  and 
the  jewel-like  coloring  of  the  stained  glass  above  them. 
Through  an  archway  looking  across  the  breadth  of  the  right 
transept  the  open,  almost  lacelike  stonework  enclosing  the 
spiral  turret  stairway  accentuated  the  height  of  the  ceilings, 
while  beside  the  high  altar  great  French  and  American  flags 
with  those  of  the  other  Allied  nations  beside  them,  lent  a 
startling  burst  of  patriotic  coloring  to  the  otherwise  subdued 
vista. 

Nineteen  chapels  adorn  the  inner  circuit  of  St.  Jean's,  not 
one  of  which  does  not  contain  valuable  works  of  sculpture, 
painting,  metalwork  or  wood  carving.  In  the  Chapel  of  St. 
Nicholas  and  St.  Francis-Xavier  is  a  stone  carved  Tree  of 
Jesse  of  the  fifteenth  century,  one  of  the  most  curious  in  exis- 
tence. On  the  branches  of  the  tree  are  seated  fourteen  figures, 
representing  the  ancestors  of  Jesus  Christ  but  dressed,  none 
the  less,  in  costumes  of  the  fifteenth  century.  The  Chapel  of  St. 
Honore  contains  a  painting  of  St.  Alexis  by  Andrea  del  Sarto, 
and  several  other  chapels  have  statues  by  Edme  Bouchardon. 
The  vandalism  of  the  Revolution  destroyed  a  number  of  the 
art  works  within  the  church  as  well  as  the  statues  which  for- 
merly ornamented  the  south  portal.  But  there  still  survives 
one  of  the  finest  groups  —  that  surrounding  the  entrance  to 
the  Holy  Sepulchre.  It  consists  of  a  superb  figure  of  Christ 
upon  the  cross,  over  the  doorway,  and  figures  of  the  Virgin 


''Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  107 

Mary  and  of  Christ  carrying  his  cross,  in  niches  at  the  sides. 
These  statues,  with  minor  figures,  and  the  architectural  work 
surrounding  them,  were  the  creation  of  Jean-Baptiste  Bouch- 
ardon,  whose  son,  Edme,  later  copied  them  for  the  Church  of 
St.  Sulpice  in  Paris. 

But  the  Holy  Sepulchre  itself,  whose  doorway  these 
statues  adorn,  is  easily  the  most  remarkable  work  in  the  entire 
church.  Set  in  place  in  1471  in  a  stone  vault  measuring  about 
9  by  12  feet  within  and  illuminated  only  by  one  tiny  Gothic 
window  admitting  a  mere  pinpoint  of  light,  this  vividly  life- 
like masterpiece  of  a  sculptor  whose  identity  has  been  lost, 
has,  for  nearly  450  years,  drawn  to  its  mysterious  abiding 
place  the  feet  of  devout  pilgrims  from  near  and  far,  particu- 
larly on  the  evenings  of  Maundy  Thursday  when,  at  the  sol- 
emn midnight  service  ushering  in  Good  Friday,  the  Sepulchre 
is  opened.  Such  a  service,  never  to  be  forgotten,  the  writer 
was  privileged  to  witness  on  Good  Friday  Eve,  in  1919. 

A  large  crowd  filled  every  corner  of  the  church,  whose 
central  portion  was  well  lighted  but  whose  chancel  and  side 
aisles  lay  in  obscurity,  the  outlines  of  sculptured  saints  and 
the  dull  glitter  of  gilded  altars  and  stained  glass  appearing, 
half  revealed,  above  the  heads  of  the  people.  Although  the 
congregation  was  so  large  one  felt  the  homelike  intimacy  of 
the  edifice,  so  unlike  the  austere  atmosphere  which  pervades 
so  many  ancient  churches.  The  gathering  seemed  that  of 
some  big  family,  facing  from  every  direction  toward  the  high 
pulpit,  while  the  priest,  pronouncing  from  this  eminence  the 
sober  discourse  appropriate  to  Good  Friday  Eve,  was,  indeed, 
like  a  father  admonishing  his  children.  At  length  he  ended 
and  the  congregation,  rising,  faced  toward  the  doorway  of 
the  Holy  Sepulchre  while  the  tones  of  the  great  organ  rolled 
through  the  archways  and  the  voices  of  the  worshipers  lifted 


io8        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

to  the  vaulted  roof  the  strains  of  one  of  the  majestic  old 
sacred  hymns.  Then  slowly  and  reverently,  the  crowd  began 
passing  through  the  low,  massive  stone  portal,  more  than 
six  feet  deep,  into  the  Sepulchre. 

A  blazing  array  of  candles  lighted  the  interior  from  one 
end,  and  beneath  their  glow  the  group  of  statues  revealed 
themselves  with  a  startling  suggestion  of  life.  Down  in  the 
vault,  two  or  three  feet  below  the  floor  level,  lies  the  figure 
of  the  Christ,  strikingly  natural  in  face  and  outline  though 
vault  and  recumbent  figure  are  carved  from  one  solid  block 
of  stone.  At  the  foot  of  the  vault  kneels  Nicodemus,  pre- 
paring to  anoint  the  body  of  the  Master  with  perfume;  at 
its  head  is  Joseph  of  Arimathaea  in  a  similar  attitude.  At  the 
side  kneel  Mary  Magdalene,  St.  John,  and  the  swooning  Vir- 
gin, and  behind  them  are  the  Centurion,  Mary,  the  mother  of 
James,  Veronica,  and  James  the  Elder.  The  colors  of  the 
statues  and  of  the  interior  of  the  Sepulchre  are  strong  and 
rich,  despite  the  centuries  that  have  passed  since  they  were 
painted,  and  the  figures  are  remarkably  executed.  It  did  not  de- 
tract from  the  impressiveness  of  the  scene  to  reflect  that  this 
group  was  placed  in  the  Church  of  St.  Jean-Baptiste  twenty- 
two  years  before  Columbus  discovered  America  and  that  dur- 
ing all  these  generations  pilgrims  from  the  pleasant  villages 
round  about  Chaumont  have  come  on  Good  Friday  Eves  to 
pay  homage  to  it,  even  as  they  had  come  on  this  night  when, 
intermingled  with  them  for  a  time  as  friends  and  neighbors, 
many  American  soldiers  brought  also  to  the  ancient  shrine  a 
reverence  none  the  less  sincere  because  they  came  from  a  land 
whose  youth  forbids  the  existence  of  such  venerable  symbols 
of  the  Christian  religion. 

Crossing  the  broad  street  intersection  before  St.  Jean's, 
from  which  one  may  look  back  at  the  grotesque  gargoyles 


'^Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  109 

projecting  from  the  cornices  of  the  church  and  the  pigeons 
circling,  in  the  rays  of  the  westering  sun,  about  the  hoary, 
buttressed  towers,  one  may  turn,  if  he  wish,  at  once  into  the 
Rue  du  Palais  and  thence  to  the  Palace  of  Justice.  But  south 
a  few  steps  down  the  steep  cobbles  of  the  Rue  St.  Jean  and 
then  around  the  corner  where  once  stood  the  Porte  de  I'Eau, 
into  the  still  steeper  length  of  the  Rue  des  Tanneries,  there 
is  a  place  that  should  not  be  forgotten.  It  is  the  Restaurant 
Trompe,  standing  back  from  the  street,  so  modest  and  small 
that  one  would  never  give  it  a  second  glance  did  he  not  know 
of  it  beforehand.  Once  through  the  unpromising  doorway, 
one  found  himself  in  a  low  room  flanked  by  two  long  tables 
with  chairs  along  their  outer  edges  and  benches  against  the 
walls  on  the  other  side.  The  table  to  the  right  was  usually 
favored  by  French  soldiers  and  civilians.  From  the  one  at 
the  left  the  arriving  guest  in  olive  drab  never  failed  of  a 
jovial  welcome  from  the  group  of  American  habitues  who 
always  assembled  there  for  dinner;  young  lieutenants  and 
enlisted  men,  most  of  them,  with  an  occasional  sprinkling  of 
"gold  or  silver  leaves"  and  possibly  a  "pair  of  eagles,"  but 
every  man,  it  may  safely  be  asserted,  an  epicure.  For  where 
else  in  Chaumont  was  to  be  found  such  creamy  potage,  such 
veau  and  hoeuf  and  mouton  in  various  appetizing  forms,  such 
modest  but  excellent  vins,  such  brown  and  feathery  pommes 
frit — yes,  and  even  to  palates  grown  weary  of  their  Gallic 
frequency,  such  really  savory  petits  pois  and  chou-Heurf  And 
who  that  supped  at  the  Restaurant  Trompe  will  ever  forget 
the  added  flavor  which  every  dish  acquired  because  it  was 
served  by  Leone,  the  winsome  daughter  of  the  proprietor; 
slender  little  Leone,  with  her  golden  hair  and  blue  eyes,  her 
quick  smile  and  grace  of  movement,  and  that  wistful  voice 
of  hers  that  made  her  so  startlingly  different  from  anyone 


no        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

else  and  so  appealing  to  every  man's  sense  of  chivalry? 
Because  of  her,  somehow  when  you  left  the  Restaurant 
Trompe  you  felt  that  you  had  not  only  enjoyed  a  good  dinner 
but  had  come  in  contact  with  a  personality  that  embodied 
some  of  the  best  and  most  charming  attributes  of  woman- 
hood, which  may  often  reach  greater  perfection  in  a  humble 
home  than  in  a  palace. 

The  walls  of  the  reserved  old  residences  along  the  Rue  du 
Palais  echo  the  footsteps  of  the  passer-by  at  any  hour  but 
never  more  loudly  than  just  at  sunset,  which  is  the  best  time 
to  visit  the  Palace  of  Justice,  the  Tour  Hautefeuille,  and  the 
tiny  garden  beyond  them.  Then  the  stone  steps,  worn  hol- 
low by  the  feet  of  many  generations,  and  the  circuitous  cor- 
ridors within  are  deserted  and  as  you  cross  the  hall  of  the 
Court  of  Assizes,  with  its  high,  funereally  draped  judge's 
bench  and  pewlike  jury  and  witness  boxes,  you  realize  some- 
thing of  the  outward  trappings  which  help  to  make  the  course 
of  justice  in  France  so  much  more  pompous  and  awesome 
than  it  is  in  America.  Another  corridor  which  lies  in  semi- 
darkness  with  deeply  vaulted  doorways  abutting  upon  it,  con- 
ducts onward  to  a  ponderous  oaken  door  at  its  farther  end. 
When  this  door,  by  no  small  exertion,  has  been  pulled  open, 
admitting  a  rush  of  daylight  and  fresh  air,  one  steps  forth 
into  a  little  fairyland,  borne  up  above  the  world  almost  as 
if  founded  upon  a  cloud.  It  is  the  garden  occupying  the  site 
of  the  former  donjon  of  the  Counts  of  Champagne.  A  gravel 
path  skirts  the  edge  of  the  parapet,  bordered  on  its  inner  side 
by  rose  bushes  which  in  midsimimer  are  weighted  down  with 
luscious  blossoms,  two  inches  or  more  in  diameter,  pink  and 
white  and  yellow.  The  rose-fringed  pathway  encloses  a  bit 
of  emerald  lawn  and  a  bench  or  two  beneath  the  low  branches 
of    some    patriarchal    trees,    above    whose    topmost    boughs 


"Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  iii 

looms  the  mighty  bulk  of  the  Tour  Hautefeuille,  brooding, 
as  for  ages  past,  upon  the  lovely  valley  at  its  feet. 

From  the  edge  of  the  ivied  parapet,  which  is  the  base  of 
the  old  donjon,  one  cannot  look  upon  the  scene  without 
delight  in  its  present  beauty  and  moving  thoughts  of  the  past. 
Far  below,  in  the  Valley  of  Peace,  as  it  is  sometimes  called, 
the  blue  and  rippling  ribbon  of  the  Suize  wends  its  circuitous 
way  daintily  between  the  neat  gardens  and  the  white-and-red 
cottages  of  the  Faubourg  des  Tanneries.  To  the  right  the 
steep  declivity  of  the  Chaumont  Plateau,  from  base  to  summit 
richly  green  with  pines  and  firs,  sweeps  around  toward  the 
north,  the  dome  of  the  Hopital  Civile  and  the  roofs  of  the 
Caserne  Damremont  just  visible  above  them.  Far  to  the  left, 
above  the  Faubourg  des  Abattoir,  is  discernible  the  length 
of  that  majestic  viaduct,  worthy  of  a  Roman  architect,  which 
carries  the  Chemin  de  Fer  de  I'Est  across  the  Suize  Valley 
on  its  way  to  Bel  fort.  Beyond  it  the  last  rays  of  the  sun 
stream  across  the  Bassigny  Hills,  casting  long  shadows  over 
the  Valley  of  Peace  where  cattle  graze  in  the  pasture  lands 
and  the  rooks  stalk  solemnly  between  the  haycocks  on  the 
dewy  meadows.  White  roads  climb  out  of  the  valley  beyond 
the  faubourgs  and  stretch  away  across  the  uplands  by  wheat 
field  and  coppice  and  woodland  toward  Jonchery,  Villers-le- 
Sec,  and  Bretenay  and  those  other  villages  whose  spires  can 
barely  be  discerned  in  the  blue  distance.  And  as  one  stands 
beside  the  donjon  parapet  with  the  perfume  of  the  roses, 
symbols  of  eternal  youth  and  beauty  and  hope,  in  his  nostrils 
and  the  shadow  of  the  sentinel  tower,  symbol  of  vanished 
oppression,  ill-requited  toil,  and  social  slavery,  above  his 
head,  he  must  realize  more  keenly  why  the  people  of  France 
by  instinct  fight  so  tenaciously  for  the  treasures  of  liberty  and 
peace  which  they  have  wrested,  bit  by  bit,  in  age-long  strug- 


112        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

gles  from  domestic  despots  and  foreign  invaders.  As  we 
in  America,  so  they  in  France  have  all  about  them  the  evi- 
dences of  their  modern  achievements.  But  they  have,  like- 
wise, all  about  them  the  decaying  memorials  of  the  walls  and 
shackles  which  they  have  burst,  and  ever  on  their  borders  the 
threatenings  of  those  ancient  enemies  who  would  reduce  them 
once  more  to  a  bondage  as  bitter,  though  different  in  form. 
Could  any  incentives  be  more  potent  than  these  to  the  ready 
spirit  of  sacrifice  for  home  and  country? 

The  Tour  Hautefeuille,  laid  up  of  enormous  squared 
stones  and  buttressed  within  by  timbers  like  the  masts  of  a 
frigate,  was  built  about  the  year  960  and  it  is  by  far  the 
oldest  structure  in  Chaumont.  Yet  it  formed,  originally,  but 
a  small  part  of  the  great  chateau  which  the  Counts  of  Cham- 
pagne first  used  for  centuries  as  a  fortress,  and  then  for  other 
centuries  as  a  sort  of  pleasure  palace  and  hunting  lodge.  The 
now  fertile  valley  of  the  Suize  was  at  that  period  dammed 
across  its  narrowest  part,  forming  a  lake  which  ran  far  back 
up  the  valley,  in  the  midst  of  the  immense  park  appertaining 
to  the  chateau.  Upon  many  a  battle,  siege,  and  foray  the  old 
tower  has  looked  down  and  upon  many  a  courtly  assemblage 
where  cardinals  and  mighty  dukes  and  even  kings  and  queens 
were  gathered  to  partake  of  the  hospitality  of  the  lords  of 
a  feudal  house  once  as  powerful  as  any  in  Europe.  Today 
it  looks  down  upon  the  court  of  justice  of  a  republic  and  the 
homes  of  a  free  people;  some  humble,  many  comfortable,  a 
few  luxurious,  but  all  far  removed  from  the  cheerless  hovels 
of  the  ancient  days.  Had  it  the  gift  of  speech,  the  Tour 
Hautefeuille  might  well  prove  not  only  a  learned  historian 
but  a  shrewd  moralist. 

Although  a  thousand  interesting  corners  still  remain  un- 
explored, our  wanderings  in  Chaumont  must  come  to  an  end. 


"Fought  the  Battle  of  Chaumont"  113 

But,  crossing  the  city  once  more  in  the  gathering  dusk  to 
the  extremity  of  the  Place  du  Champ  de  Mars,  we  may  leave 
it  by  the  shady  road  to  Neufchateau,  curving  down  the  long 
hillside  into  the  valley  of  the  Marne.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill 
is  the  mossy  wall  surrounding  St.  Aignan's  Cemetery,  with 
the  fagade  and  tower  of  the  ancient  church,  as  old  as  St. 
Jean's  itself,  half  hidden  behind  the  tombstones  and  the  trees 
growing  among  them.  Beside  the  wall  a  by-road  leads  down 
toward  the  Marne  where,  on  a  sheltered  little  plateau  above 
the  stream,  lies  a  spot  more  sacred  to  the  soldiers  from  the 
New  World  than  any  other  in  Chaumont  —  the  American 
Military  Cemetery. 

Slumbering  in  the  deep  peace  of  the  valley,  here  lie  buried 
545  officers  and  soldiers  of  the  United  States  Army  and 
among  them  a  few  faithful  nurses  and  welfare  workers.  Some 
of  them  died  in  the  camps  in  and  around  Chaumont  but  most 
of  them  of  wounds  or  disease  at  Base  Hospital  15.  The  loca- 
tion and  surroundings  of  the  cemetery  are  most  appealing. 
Close  beside  the  parish  cemetery  it  lies,  the  shadow  of  St. 
Aignan's  stretching  across  it  in  the  afternoon  and  the  soft 
tones  of  her  bell  floating  over  it  at  matins  and  vespers.  Here, 
with  the  peculiar  tenderness  of  the  French  for  the  places  of 
the  dead,  come  often  the  people  of  Chaumont,  impartially 
bestowing  their  attentions  upon  these  graves  of  allies  and 
upon  St.  Aignan's  sepulchres ;  planting  and  tending  the  flow- 
ers around  the  mounds  or  hanging  upon  the  white  crosses 
at  their  heads  some  of  those  pathetic  funeral  wreaths  of  bead- 
wrought  flowers  and  leaves  which  are  the  universal  tokens  of 
mourning  in  the  cemeteries  of  France.  How  much  better  that 
they  should  lie  there  forever,  marshaled  with  the  comrades 
of  their  faith  and  watched  over  by  the  kindred  people  to 
whose  aid  they  came  in  the  hour  of  bitter  need,  than  that 


114        ^^^^  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 


their  dust  should  be  exhumed  and  sent  across  the  ocean  to 
be  scattered  in  the  private  cemeteries  of  city  and  village  and 
countryside,  inevitably  to  be  at  last  neglected  and  forgotten! 
For  here  they  may  rest,  as  the  dead  in  America's  other  war 
cemeteries  in  France  may  rest,  still  active  factors  for  the  good 
of  the  world  as  everlasting  symbols  of  the  union  of  free 
peoples  in  a  high  cause.  Certainly  to  Chaumont,  knowing 
scarcely  a  single  American  before  the  great  war,  the  cemetery 
beside  St.  Aignan's  is  a  bond  of  sympathy  with  the  people 
and  the  institutions  of  the  United  States  more  strong  and 
abiding  than  the  most  imposing  monument. 

So,  as  the  lights  twinkle  out  among  the  trees  of  the  hill- 
top city  and  evening  with  its  deep  peace  comes  down  over 
the  valley  where  the  fragrance  of  wild  flowers  and  mown 
fields  drifts  above  the  serried  graves  and  the  waters  of  the 
immortal  Marne  whisper  at  their  feet,  let  us  leave  both  Chau- 
mont and  them,  assured  that  here  among  the  hills  of  the  High 
Marne,  fallen  comrades  and  living  friends  have  together 
reared  a  shrine  to  which  the  feet  of  Americans  will  come 
generations  after  the  last  soldier  of  the  World  War  shall  have 
received  his  discharge  from  the  armies  of  earth. 


CHAPTER  VII 

WHERE  DREAMS  THE  STILL  CANAL 

AMONG  the  characteristic  features  of  the  French  coun- 
tryside, none  probably  impressed  itself  more  vividly 
upon  the  recollection  of  many  Americans  than  the  numerous 
canals.  To  us  they  are  more  striking  than  to  Europeans 
because  they  are  comparatively  rare  in  our  own  country, 
whose  rapid  growth  has  thus  far  outrun  such  intensive  devel- 
opments as  canals  for  the  cheapening  of  transportation.  But 
in  France  they  are,  and  for  many  years  have  been,  important 
factors  in  the  economic  life  of  the  country.  In  the  region 
of  northeastern  France  given  over  to  the  American  training 
areas,  canals,  usually  paralleling  the  courses  of  the  larger 
rivers,  are  quite  common  and  rarely  lacking  in  beauty. 

Among  them  all  none  is  more  picturesque  than  the  Marne- 
Saone  Canal  between  Chaumont  and  St.  Dizier.  In  all  that 
distance  of  75  kilometers,  or  more,  the  accompanying  canal 
is  more  conspicuous  than  the  river,  which  receives  only  one 
tributary  of  any  importance,  the  Rognon,  in  the  region  men- 
tioned. The  capricious  little  Marne  wanders  where  it  will 
about  the  bases  of  the  hills  and  through  woodlands  and 
meadows,  while  the  canal  marches  onward  in  long  stretches 
of  placid  blue  water,  edged  by  the  white  towpaths  and  straight 
ranks  of  poplars,  turning  now  and  then  only  in  a  sweeping 
bend  to  conform  to  the  general  outline  of  the  valley. 

Just  below  Chaumont  occurs  one  of  these  bends,  where 
both  canal  and  river  round  the  base  of  the  hill  overspread 
by  the  dusky  woods  of  the  park  which  surrounds  the  Chateau 
of  Condes.  In  a  marshy  bit  of  ground  just  at  the  foot  of 
the  hill  the  waters  of  the  Suize  glide  into  those  of  the  Marne, 

115 


Ii6        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

while  high  above  them  both  the  canal  stretches  on,  its  em- 
bankments clothed  with  grass  short  and  thick  as  a  lawn,  and 
starred  with  daisies.  In  such  stretches  as  this  the  big  blunt- 
bowed  canal  barges  appear  scarcely  to  move  at  all  as  they 
are  pulled  ahead  by  a  long  towrope  attached  to  a  team  of 
horses.  Long  accustomed  to  such  toil,  the  animals  lift  and 
plant  their  feet  with  incredible  deliberation,  giving  to  their 
driver,  usually  a  small  boy,  ample  leisure  for  exploring  the 
adjacent  shores  and  for  gazing  back  at  the  high  hill  of  Chau- 
mont,  lifting  the  dark  mass  of  buildings  of  Damremont  Bar- 
racks against  the  southern  sky. 

The  progress  of  a  canal  barge  through  a  lock  is  always 
an  entertaining  sight,  especially  if  one  can  watch  it  from  the 
comfortable  eminence  of  the  iron  railing,  or  one  of  the 
cement  "  snubbing  posts  "  at  one  end  of  the  long,  boxlike  lock 
whose  substantial  masonry  walls  are  topped  by  smooth  cement. 
As  the  barge,  assuming  it  to  be  a  descending  one,  approaches 
the  head  gates,  the  lock-keeper  or  his  wife  or  daughter  comes 
forth  from  the  neat  little  stuccoed  house  which  stands  beside 
every  lock,  and  by  turning  a  windlass  swings  the  great  iron 
head  gates  slowly  open.  Into  the  lock  the  barge  is  drawn 
and  the  towteam  then  unhitched  to  graze  peacefully  by  the 
side  of  the  path  until  the  barge  shall  have  been  lowered.  The 
lock-keeper  closes  the  head  gates,  proceeds  to  the  other  end 
of  the  lock,  and  opens  the  sluices  of  the  tail  gates.  With  a 
great  hissing  and  splashing  the  confined  waters  begin  to  pour 
down  into  the  lower  level  while  the  hull  of  the  barge  slowly 
sinks  within  the  lock  walls.  Perhaps  the  family  on  board 
is  preparing  for  a  meal,  for  these  craft  appear  often  to  be 
chartered  by  some  farmer  or  other  worker  having  merchant- 
able produce  who  loads  the  fruit  of  his  year's  labor  into  the 
hold  and,  with  his  family  in  the  cabin,  and  the  whole  upper 


Where  Dreams  the  Still  Canal  117 

deck  for  back  yard  and  recreation  ground,  proceeds  in  this 
pleasant  fashion  to  some  large  city  where  he  can  advantage- 
ously dispose  of  his  goods.  The  mere  passage  of  a  lock  does 
not  interfere  in  the  least  with  the  domestic  routine  of  an 
itinerant  family.  If  dinner  is  preparing,  it  proceeds;  if  the 
washing  is  finished,  it  goes  up  to  dry  on  lines  strung  about 
over  the  deck. 

In  perhaps  6  or  8  minutes  the  surplus  water  has  been 
discharged  from  the  lock  and  the  barge  has  sunk  some  8  or 
9  feet  to  the  level  of  the  next  stretch  of  canal.  Then  the 
tail  gates  are  thrown  wide,  the  sleepy  horses  are  hooked  up 
once  more  to  the  sagging  towrope  and  the  ungainly  craft  with 
its  family,  and  perhaps  a  milk  goat  or  a  dog  gazing  out 
across  the  stern,  all  blissfully  unconcerned  with  the  fret  and 
feverish  hurry  of  the  world,  floats  off  at  the  rate  of  some 
2  miles  per  hour  down  a  lane  of  turquoise  water  whose  sur- 
face, scarcely  broken  by  a  ripple,  reflects  the  feathery  poplar 
branches  and  the  blue  sky  above  them  like  a  pathway  leading 
into  fairyland. 

The  village  of  Condes,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  below 
Chaumont,  though  possessed  of  less  than  200  inhabitants,  is 
said  by  the  ancient  chroniclers  to  have  been  a  town  in  961,  in 
the  time  of  King  Lothair.  Such  a  rate  of  growth  would  hardly 
encourage  real-estate  investment  by  the  business  man  of 
America,  nor  does  Condes  appear  to  have  attained  great  pro- 
portions at  any  epoch.  We  are  told  that  in  1225,  264  years 
after  King  Lothair  graced  the  place  with  his  royal  but  rather 
nerveless  presence,  one  Seigneur  d'Ambonville,  then  lord  of 
that  region,  sold  to  the  Abbey  of  Clairvaux  "all  the  tithes 
and  revenues  "  not  only  of  Condes  but  also  of  Bretenay  and 
Jonchery  for  the  sum  of  240  livres,  about  $4,800.00,  "in 
strong  money  of   Provins."     Evidently  the    good    seigneur 


Ii8         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

intended  to  get  his  $4,800.00  at  par  value,  for  in  those  days 
the  "strong  money"  coined  at  the  local  mint  of  the  city  of 
Provins,  in  Ile-de-France,  was  a  synonym  for  standard  weight 
and  fineness. 

Today  Condes  is  a  cluster  of  cottages  on  a  little  hill, 
encircled  by  a  bend  of  the  Marne  which  here  runs  deep  and 
still  past  the  ruins  of  an  old  mill,  half  buried  in  trees  and 
bushes,  and  along  the  base  of  the  steep  hills  towering  up 
opposite  the  village.  The  highest  point  in  the  hamlet  itself 
is  crowned  by  the  gray  old  church,  a  massive  retaining  wall 
holding  its  graveyard  aloft  from  the  street,  which  circles 
about  it  and  seems  seldom  animated  by  other  living  presence 
than  a  few  chickens  and  ducks  and  perhaps  a  cow  or  two. 
A  few  hundred  feet  above  the  village  a  bridge,  its  stones 
green  with  moss,  arches  the  Marne  and  gives  access  to  the 
lovely  park  of  the  Chateau  of  Condes.  This  place,  even  more 
secluded  than  the  Chateau  du  Val-des-Ecoliers,  was  occupied 
during  the  latter  part  of  the  war  by  a  number  of  Italian 
officers  connected  with  the  Italian  Mission  at  American  Gen- 
eral Headquarters.  A  little  stream,  wandering  down  from 
the  hills  and  filled,  near  the  chateau,  with  a  variety  of  rare 
aquatic  plants,  is  said  to  harbor  excellent  trout,  while  along 
the  winding  graveled  paths  and  roadways  one  catches  glimpses 
of  more  than  one  white  marble  statue  gleaming  through  the 
foliage. 

Hardly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  west  of  Condes,  the  Marne- 
Saone  Canal,  within  the  space  of  a  few  hundred  yards,  per- 
forms two  feats  which,  though  not  uncommon,  yet  always 
seem  rather  startling  for  a  canal;  it  crosses  the  river  and  it 
goes  straight  through  a  hill.  The  broad  aqueduct,  solidly 
built  of  steel  and  cement,  by  which  it  passes  over  the  Marne, 
permits  the  latter  to  make  the  bend  by  which  it  skirts  the 


Where  Dreams  the  Still  Canal  119 

chateau  park  and  circles  Condes.  The  jutting  ridge  thus 
avoided  by  the  river,  the  canal  on  the  contrary  bores  through 
by  a  tunnel  300  yards  long  and  having  a  width  of  50  feet 
and  a  height  of  25.  Upon  emerging  from  the  tunnel,  the 
canal  swings  around  past  the  foot  of  the  hill  on  which  Bre- 
tenay  sprawls  its  two  or  three  short,  rocky  streets  and  then 
again  meets  the  Marne;  but,  for  the  first  time  since  the  two 
began  their  journey  side  by  side  near  Langres,  on  the  left 
instead  of  the  right  bank  of  the  river. 

In  the  floor  of  Bretenay's  church  are  imbedded  a  number 
of  tombstones  upon  whose  worn  surfaces  can  still  be  deciph- 
ered dates  of  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries  and  the 
names  of  long-extinct  noble  families  of  the  region  round  about 
whose  very  existence  is  otherwise  forgotten.  But  aside  from 
these  venerable  stones  and  the  views  across  the  valley  of  the 
Alarne,  so  lovely  from  nearly  every  village  on  its  course  that 
the  temptation  to  linger  in  contemplation  becomes  a  fixed 
attitude  of  mind,  there  is  little  to  commend  Bretenay  to  the 
wayfarer's  attention.  That  is,  little  unless  it  be  a  certain 
curiosity  as  to  where  the  vineyards  grew  which  produced  the 
wine  unflatteringly  mentioned  in  an  addition  to  the  litany 
made  by  the  devout  Chaumontais  of  olden  days :  "  From 
the  bread  of  Brottes,  from  the  wine  of  Bretenay,  and  from 
the  cheese  of  Verbiesles,  good  Lord,  deliver  usl" 

Couched  close  beside  the  river  on  the  bank  opposite  to 
the  road  from  Bretenay  to  Bologne,  the  hamlet  of  Riaucourt 
misses  half  the  sunlight  of  the  afternoons  because  the  shadow 
of  the  forest-clad  hill  behind  it  so  early  stretches  itself  across 
the  gray  church  tower  and  the  meadows  close  at  hand.  Close 
to  Riaucourt,  on  the  rolling  uplands,  lies  a  farm  which  was 
mentioned  by  its  present  name.  La  Ferme  des  Quartiers,  in 
documents  of  as  remote  a  date  as   1184.     Obviously,  upon 


I20        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

ground  so  long  cultivated,  intensive  farming  has  been  neces- 
sary for  many  a  century  past  in  order  to  keep  in  the  soil 
any  productive  power  whatever  and  the  success  of  such 
methods,  practically  in  perpetuity,  is  shown  by  the  really 
excellent  crops  produced  on  many  ancient  farms.  In  the 
church  of  Riaucourt  one  finds  upon  a  certain  worn  tombstone 
a  quaint  epitaph  which,  freely  translated,  runs  as  follows : 

//,  stranger,  thou  dost  wish  to  know 
Who,  in  this  sad  house,  lies  below, 
'Tis  one  who  swore  not  save,  "alas!" 
And  was  esteemed  a  new  Pallas. 
Anne  she  was  tianted;  a  woman  sage. 
Of  noble  blood  and  speech  to  trust; 
Fixed  in  her  home,  where,  in  old  age, 
She  wished  her  bones  returned  to  dust. 
Pray,  stranger,  to  the  God  of  grace 
To  give  her  soul  a  pleasant  place. 

If  one  but  had  the  time  and  the  facilities,  in  this  widely 
diversified  country  of  the  High  Marne,  for  journeying  from 
one  to  another  of  the  river  villages  on  foot  or,  better  still, 
on  horseback,  by  leisurely  detours  over  the  hills  and  valleys 
back  from  the  river,  he  would  find  at  every  step  new  beauties 
to  delight  the  eye  and  at  every  turn  a  fresh  variation  in  the 
smile  of  nature.  Reversing  the  American  method,  in  the 
town  the  Frenchman  surrounds  his  houses  and  gardens  with 
walls;  in  the  country  he  leaves  his  farms  and  woodlands 
utterly  open.  Hence  the  Haute-Marne  countryside,  for 
example,  is  a  paradise  for  the  cross-country  rider,  being  as 
free  from  fences  as  the  rolling  prairies  of  the  old  American 
West.  Indeed,  save  for  the  greater  abundance  of  timber, 
it  is  very  similar  in  the  general  appearance  of  its  landscapes 
to  the  country  adjacent  to  the  Missouri  River  in  Nebraska, 


Where  Dreams  the  Still  Canal  121 

Missouri,  Iowa,  and  South  Dakota.  One  might  set  forth  on 
a  much-traveled  main  road  and,  reaching  the  top  of  the  hills 
by  its  dusty  course,  turn  off  at  the  first  branching  way,  defined 
only  by  the  tracks  of  farm  carts.  Up  over  a  bit  of  stony 
ground  it  goes  and  then  across  a  level  bit  of  blue  grass  dotted 
with  crimson  clover.  Take  the  gallop  and  fly  over  a  half- 
mile  of  upland  meadow  with  small  pine  woods  at  a  distance 
on  either  hand,  to  slow  down  across  a  marshy  brook  and  find 
yourself  skirting  the  mossy  wall  of  an  old  chateau  park,  with 
bosky  woods  across  the  way.  On  again,  ignoring  a  main  road 
which  your  cart  track  crosses  at  right  angles,  and  out  between 
fields  of  golden  wheat. 

Perhaps  in  the  distance  a  farmer  is  driving  his  reaper, 
and  shocks  of  bundles  dot  the  sunny  field  with  some  rooks 
solemnly  stalking  about  them  and  among  the  poppies  and  corn- 
flowers, which  everywhere  dash  the  dull  gold  of  the  stubble 
with  vivid  crimson  and  blue.  The  cart  track  fades  to  a  bridle 
path  but  it  is  trotting  ground  always  as  the  path  winds  be- 
tween the  small  individual  grain  patches  which,  in  sum,  make 
one  great  field.  The  edge  of  the  cultivated  ground  is  reached. 
Across  a  bit  of  grass  the  path  points  toward  a  woodland,  its 
border  of  outbending  branches  seeming  impenetrable.  But 
no  fear;  plunge  in.  A  moment  and  you  find  that  the  path 
is  a  cool,  green  tunnel,  arched  over  by  great  tree  limbs  and 
fair  shrubbery,  so  dense  by  the  wayside  that  it  seems  a  wall, 
yet  so  well  trimmed  that  it  is  always  possible  to  trot  if  one 
wishes  with  rarely  a  branch  to  whip  one  across  the  face. 
Down  a  steep  hillside  where  the  ground  is  richly  green  with 
a  dense,  glistening  carpet  of  ivy  and  the  tree  trunks  have  been 
turned  to  pillars  of  jade  by  its  creeping  vines,  and  here  is 
a  little  brook  bubbling  over  the  stones  in  a  bed  shadowed 
almost  to  twilight  by  the  dense  foliage  above.    Up  the  oppo- 


122         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 


site  hillside  and  perhaps  a  tumbled  mass  of  squared  stones 
with  vestiges  of  ruined  wall,  glimpsed  between  the  trees, 
causes  one  to  wonder  whether  here  is  the  ruin  of  some  long- 
forgotten  chateau  or  that  of  an  ancient  hermit's  priory,  for 
in  this  land  of  countless  ruins  investigation  might  prove  either 
supposition  correct. 

It  may  be  that  at  the  top  of  the  hill  the  path  comes  out 
in  a  carrefour,  or  meeting  place  of  several  woodland  roads, 
marked,  very  likely,  by  a  stone  pillar.  Among  the  various 
tracks  leading  off  between  the  trees,  one  must  be  chosen  for 
further  progress,  but  the  uncertainty  of  results  merely  adds 
zest  to  such  a  journey.  You  choose,  and  go  on.  After  a 
time  you  come  out  suddenly  into  a  section  of  the  forest  which 
is  being  lumbered.  But  it  is  not  being  slashed  down  merci- 
lessly, the  chosen  logs  snaked  away  and  the  ground  left  lit- 
tered with  shorn  branches,  crushed  and  dying  saplings  and 
mutilated  undergrowth,  as  is  too  often  the  case  in  a  lumbered 
area  of  an  American  forest.  Every  pine  capable  of  yielding 
dimension  timber  has  been  marked  with  record  numbers  in 
blue  chalk  and  is  being  carefully  sawed  preparatory  to  re- 
moval. Every  particle  of  small  branches  is  piled  up  neatly 
for  use  as  fuel  and  every  sapling  whose  future  growth  is 
desired  has  been  preserved. 

The  road  winds  on  through  another  section  of  standing 
forest  and  then,  all  at  once,  comes  out  upon  the  high  crest 
of  an  open  hill  from  which,  in  full  view  ahead,  breaks  the 
vision  of  the  green  Marne  Valley,  jeweled  at  intervals  with 
the  clustered  red  roofs  of  villages,  while  on  the  far  hills 
beyond,  in  a  sea  of  sunshine,  islands  of  cloud  shadows  slowly 
drift.  In  the  other  direction,  beyond  a  fold  of  higher  ground, 
clothed  with  rippling  alfalfa,  rises  through  treetops  the  spire 
of  a  village  church.    Over  the  woods  and  fields  rests  the  hush 


Where  Dreams  the  Still  Canal  123 

of  the  summer  afternoon,  broken  only  by  the  far-off  cawing 
of  a  rook.  Then  suddenly  up  from  the  heart  of  the  alfalfa 
shoots  straight  toward  the  sky  a  little  fluff  of  liquid  melody. 
It  is  a  skylark.  Up  and  up  he  goes,  a  hundred,  two  hun- 
dred feet,  his  ecstatic  carol  pouring  down  like  shaken  drops 
from  a  fountain  of  music.  Then,  reaching  at  once  the  apex 
of  his  flight  and  of  his  song,  like  a  plummet  he  drops  again 
into  the  grass,  to  repeat  his  performance  after  a  moment's 
interval. 

Such  excursions  as  the  one  just  described,  with  infinite 
variations  and  additions,  may  be  made  anywhere  among  the 
hills  of  the  Marne,  not  alone  in  its  upper  reaches  but  all  the 
way  to  Paris,  and  the  knowledge  that  on  every  hand  such 
scenes  lie  awaiting  the  pleasure  of  the  wayfarer,  lends  to  the 
whole  land  a  never-ending  charm. 

As  the  junction  on  the  railway  between  Chaumont  and 
St.  Dizier  at  which  a  branch  line  runs  off  to  Andelot  and 
Neufchateau,  the  village  of  Bologne  is  of  some  importance, 
as  it  was  in  a  different  sense  as  early  as  757,  when  a  Count 
of  Bologne  already  held  the  country  as  a  vassal  of  Pepin  the 
Short,  founder  of  the  Carlovingian  dynasty  and  father  of 
Charlemagne.  The  place  received  its  name  from  Ste.  Bol- 
ogne, a  virgin  martyr  of  the  fourth  century  A.  D.,  who  met 
her  death  on  the  territory  of  Roocourt-la-C6te,  on  the  oppo- 
site shore  of  the  Marne.  As  has  been  mentioned  in  an  earlier 
chapter,  the  counts  of  Bassigny  and  Bologne  were  the  earliest 
lords  of  Chaumont  and  one  of  them,  Geoffrey,  was  made  the 
first  Count  of  Champagne  by  Hugh  Capet  about  the  year  987. 
The  place  lies  prettily  along  the  left  bank  of  the  Marne  which, 
near  the  village,  is  again  crossed  by  the  canal  on  an  aqueduct. 
But  the  special  importance  of  Bologne  today  resides  in  the 
fact  that  it  possesses  extensive  loading  platforms  and  bar- 


124        ^^^  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

racks  at  its  military  railway  station,  this  being  one  of  the 
assembly  points  for  troops  destined  for  service  on  the  east- 
ern frontier,  in  the  event  of  mobilization. 

It  is  scarcely  possible  as  we  proceed  down  river  toward 
Joinville  to  pass  a  village  with  whose  past  there  are  not  con- 
nected more  or  less  historical  facts  or  traditions  of  interest. 
Thus  Roocourt-la-C6te,  which  was  once  in  the  fourth  century 
destroyed  by  Ptolemy,  a  Roman  general  of  the  Emperor 
Julian  the  Apostate,  shows  a  chapel  marking  the  reputed  site 
of  the  martyrdom  of  Ste.  Bologne.  At  Vieville  was  once 
uncovered  by  farmers  working  in  their  fields,  an  immense 
vault  made  of  bricks  each  nearly  two  feet  square,  laid  in  very 
hard  cement,  which  when  opened  disclosed  a  fortune  in 
Roman  coins.  Up  the  deep  valley  of  a  little  brook  entering 
the  Marne  from  the  west,  lies  Vignory,  whose  parish  church, 
completed  early  in  the  eleventh  century,  is  considered  the 
finest  example  of  Romanesque  church  architecture  in  the 
Department  of  the  Haute-Marne  because  it  preserves  so  per- 
fectly the  architecture  and  sculpture  of  its  primitive  period. 

At  Villiers-sur-Marne,  whose  cottages,  containing  less 
than  300  inhabitants,  lie  in  a  deep  bend  of  the  river  and 
canal  just  off  the  main  Chaumont-St.  Dizier  road,  the  writer 
stopped  for  lunch  one  hot  and  dusty  day  in  August,  191 9. 
Beside  the  house  wall,  whose  shadow  broke  the  heat  of  the 
sun,  the  table  was  set  in  the  courtyard  of  the  villager  who 
was  at  once  the  local  blacksmith  and  proprietor  of  the  modest 
cafe  and  hotel.  Near  the  door  of  the  blacksmith-shop,  hard 
by,  stood  a  primitive  reaper  and  a  huge  two-wheeled  farm 
cart,  with  other  farming  implements  awaiting  repairs,  and 
across  the  court,  just  beyond  a  wall  clothed  with  carefully 
trimmed  grapevines,  rose  the  low  edifice  and  squat,  gray  tower 
of  the  village  church. 


Where  Dreams  the  Still  Canal  125 

While  the  hostess,  smiling  with  pleasure  at  having  Amer- 
icans as  guests  once  more,  was  preparing  and  serving  the 
luncheon  of  crisp  fried  potatoes,  feathery  omelette,  bread  and 
butter,  and  St.  Dizier  beer,  a  fox  terrier  belonging  to  the 
family  displayed  an  unusually  keen  interest  in  the  visitors, 
rubbing  against  their  olive-drab  trousers  and  licking  their 
olive-drab  sleeves  with  an  unmistakable  air  of  welcome.  The 
family  addressed  the  little  animal  as  "  Miss,"  a  name  strangely 
English  to  the  ear,  and  inquiry  disclosed  the  fact  that  she 
had  been,  until  a  few  months  before,  the  mascot  of  one  of 
the  batteries  of  the  American  Fifty-eighth  Coast  Artillery 
Corps,  which  had  billetted  in  Villiers-sur-Marne  in  January 
and  February,  19 19,  after  the  departure  of  Batteries  A  and 
B,  Fifty-ninth  Coast  Artillery  Corps.  Upon  leaving  the 
humble  Marne  village,  which  was  in  the  center  of  the  Eigh- 
teenth American  Training  Area,  the  men  of  the  Fifty-eighth 
Regiment  bequeathed  "  Miss "  to  the  family  of  the  black- 
smith and  cafe-keeper  to  whose  children  she  was  a  boon 
companion,  although  on  her  part  evidently  cherishing  fond 
recollections  of  her  departed  American  masters. 

The  hill  country  in  the  region  of  Villiers-sur-Marne,  hav- 
ing rather  sterile  soil,  has  been  largely  left  in  forests,  among 
which  are  some  of  the  most  extensive  in  the  Haute-Marne. 
Between  Bologne  and  Donjeux,  in  addition  to  numerous 
smaller  areas,  lie,  to  the  east  of  the  river,  the  Foret  du  Heu, 
the  Bois  des  Grandes  Combes  and  the  Foret  du  Pavilion, 
while  to  the  west  of  it  lies  the  Foret  de  I'Etoile.  Each  of 
these  contains  in  the  neighborhood  of  25  square  miles,  or 
16,000  acres,  of  timber.  Communal  woodlands  and  National 
forest  alike  are  intersected  by  frequent  roads  and  paths,  mak- 
ing every  portion  of  them  readily  accessible.  Here  and  there 
among  the  great  stretches  of  pine,  fir  and  cedar,  oak,  beech, 


126         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

maple,  elm,  ash,  buckthorn,  hornbeam,  and  other  varieties 
of  trees,  are  almost  always  to  be  found  spots  of  romantic 
interest ;  a  spring  surrounded  by  a  sculptured  fount  and  basin, 
dedicated  to  some  saint;  a  crucifix  of  local  repute;  the  ruined 
oratory  of  an  ancient  hermit  or,  perhaps,  the  scattered  and 
decaying  stones  of  a  medieval  chateau  or  the  hunting  pavil- 
ion of  long-dead  king  or  duke  or  count. 

The  villages  of  Gudmont,  Rouvroy,  and  Donjeux  lie  close 
together  in  a  series  of  bends  of  the  Marne  and  the  canal, 
of  which  the  latter  is  now  quite  active  with  barges.  In  the 
two  villages  last  named,  early  in  19 19,  were  billeted  the  por- 
tions of  the  Fifty-eighth  and  Fifty-ninth  Coast  Artillery 
Corps  which  were  not  stationed  at  Villiers-sur-Marne.  Don- 
jeux, which  boasts  iron  works  and  a  cement  factory,  possesses 
also  a  handsome  church  of  the  twelfth  century  with  an  ogival 
porch  and  some  well-preserved  sculptures  of  that  period.  The 
River  Rognon,  coming  from  the  southeast,  adds  its  con- 
siderable volume  to  the  Marne  just  below  the  village.  Across 
the  widened  valley  thus  created,  on  the  crest  of  a  massive 
hill  east  of  the  Rognon,  clothed  with  vineyards  and  orchard 
trees,  stands  a  chateau  built  in  the  eighteenth  century  on  the 
site  of  a  medieval  structure  which  belonged  to  the  family  of 
Joinville,  whose  most  illustrious  member,  Jean,  Sire  de  Join- 
ville,  the  historian  of  King  Louis  ix,  we  will  meet  when 
we  come  to  the  city  of  Joinville. 

St.  Urbain,  named  in  honor  of  Pope  Urban  i,  the  saint 
and  martyr  whose  bones  were  deposited  in  the  abbey  there  in 
865,  is  noted  for  the  delicacy  of  its  wines,  in  the  production 
of  which  most  of  its  inhabitants  make  their  livelihood.  In- 
deed, in  the  sixteenth  century  it  boasted  a  unique  official,  bear- 
ing the  title  of  "  Gourmet,  Taster  of  Wines."  But  in  St. 
Urbain  the  tiny  facet  upon  which  the  light  of  history  glows 


Where  Dreams  the  Still  Canal  127 

is  the  day  of  February  24,  1429,  when  Jeanne  d'Arc,  escorted 
by  her  faithful  guardians,  Jean  de  Novelonpont  and  Bertrand 
de  Poulangy  and  four  others,  rested  there  and  heard  mass 
at  the  abbey  after  her  first  night's  march  from  Voucouleurs, 
through  a  hostile  country,  on  her  ever-memorable  journey  to 
the  court  of  the  Dauphin  at  Chinon. 

One  more  small  village,  Fronville,  is  passed  and  then,  on 
a  hill  crest  where  the  road  bends  above  Rupt,  is  disclosed 
across  billows  of  orchard  and  vineyard,  a  charming  view  of 
Joinville,  at  a  distance  down  the  valley  ahead,  with  the 
slender  spire  of  Notre  Dame  Church  thrusting  up  at  the  base 
of  the  bold  hill  whose  summit  supports  the  ruins  of  the  Cha- 
teau de  Joinville.  A  few  hundred  yards  more  through  Rupt, 
whose  own  chateau  with  its  curiously  peaked  and  sloping 
roofs  is  not  without  interest,  and  the  high-road  parts  with 
its  bordering  poplars,  passes  between  the  first  outlying  houses 
of  Joinville  into  its  long  main  street  and  by  that  into  the 
Rue  du  Grand  Pont.  The  latter,  stretching  eastward  from 
the  railroad  station,  is  the  main  business  thoroughfare  of 
the  city. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

JOINVILLE-EN-VALLAGE 

THE  little  city  of  less  than  4,000  people  which  today 
looks  across  the  varied  verdure  of  the  Marne  Valley 
to  the  gradual  slopes  of  the  eastward  heights,  carpeted  with 
varicolored  blocks  of  field  and  vineyard  and  woodland,  harks 
back  for  its  origin  to  the  reign  of  the  Roman  emperor.  Vale- 
rian, whose  cavalry  general  Flavius  Valerius  Jovinus,  is  said 
to  have  erected  on  the  hill  of  Joinville  a  strong  tower  as  a 
defense  against  the  Germans.  The  town  grew  up  at  the 
foot  of  the  fortified  hill  and  was  itself  fortified  by  King 
Louis  the  Fat,  that  staunch  friend  of  the  communes,  in  the 
first  half  of  the  twelfth  century.  At  this  period  the  Join- 
ville family  became  the  feudal  lords  of  the  chateau  and  sur- 
rounding territory,  remaining  in  power  until  the  end  of  the 
fourteenth  century.  Then  a  daughter  of  the  house.  Mar- 
guerite de  Joinville,  carried  the  heritage  into  the  family  of 
Lorraine,  from  which  it  passed  to  the  Dukes  of  Guise  and 
finally  to  the  Orleans  family,  of  which  the  third  son  con- 
tinued to  bear  the  title.  Prince  of  Joinville,  until  the  over- 
throw of  royalty  in  France.  Students  of  American  history 
will  recall  that  during  our  Civil  War,  which  occurred  while 
Napoleon  iii  was  emperor  of  the  French  and,  consequently, 
while  the  Orleanists  were  still  active  pretenders  to  the  throne 
of  France,  the  most  important  members  of  the  family,  the 
Count  of  Paris,  the  Duke  of  Chartres,  and  the  Prince  of 
Joinville,  came  to  America  in  the  autumn  of  1861  and  served 
through  the  Peninsular  campaign  of  the  following  year  as 
volunteer  aides-de-camp  on  the  staff  of  General  George  B.  Mc- 
Clellan,  commanding  the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  A  few  years 

128 


Joinville-en-Vallage  129 

later  the  Count  of  Paris  published  a  history  of  the  American 
Civil  War  to  the  close  of  1863,  which,  in  all  the  voluminous 
literature  on  the  subject,  has  rarely  been  equaled  as  a  mili- 
tary study  of  that  portion  of  the  great  American  conflict. 

The  Sire  Jean  de  Joinville,  who  was  the  most  illustrious 
native  of  the  little  city  by  the  Marne,  is  a  figure  of  some 
interest  to  Americans  and  especially  to  the  people  of  St. 
Louis,  Missouri,  because  he  was  the  historian  of  the  great 
St.  Louis,  that  king  of  France  for  whom  the  city  of  St. 
Louis  was  named.  The  Sire  de  Joinville  preserved  in  his 
writings  the  greater  part  of  the  facts  which  are  known  today 
concerning  that  gallant  crusader  who  was  at  once  the  most 
chivalrous  gentleman  and  the  most  just  and  conscientious 
monarch  who  ever  occupied  the  throne  of  France.  The  bio- 
grapher who,  in  writing  his  intimate  story  of  the  good  king's 
life,  incidentally  earned  for  himself  an  immortal  place  in 
literature,  was  not,  under  the  feudal  system,  a  direct  vassal 
of  the  King  of  France  but  of  the  Count  of  Lorraine.  Con- 
sequently he  never  consented  to  swear  fealty  to  the  king.  But 
in  1248  he  answered  Louis'  call  to  the  Sixth  Crusade,  though 
he  left  his  ancestral  home  above  the  pleasant  valley  of  the 
Marne  with  heart  burnings  so  keen  that,  as  he  has  recorded 
in  his  works,  he  dared  not  trust  himself  as  he  rode  away 
with  his  knights  and  men-at-arms  to  look  back  at  the  chateau 
and  the  town,  the  green  fields  and  tree  shadowed  river  from 
the  last  point  on  the  road  which  disclosed  that  gentle  view. 

Serving  the  king  with  unswerving  devotion  during  the 
six  unfortunate  years  which  followed  the  first  brief  success 
at  Damietta  and  the  disastrous  defeat  of  Mansourah,  in 
Egypt,  he  had  the  joy  of  returning  to  his  home  in  1254. 
Thenceforward  he  declined  to  be  lured  far  from  France  and 
the  simple  and  congenial  duties  and  pleasures  of  a  country 


130        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

nobleman,  either  upon  crusades  or  other  matters.  He  was 
already  a  very  old  man  when  he  began  his  Histoire  de  Saint 
Louis,  which  he  completed  several  years  later,  in  1309.  In 
13 1 5,  at  the  age  of  ninety-one,  he  showed  his  doughty  spirit 
by  responding  to  the  summons  of  King  Louis  X  to  bear  arms 
against  the  Flemings.  Surviving,  with  astonishing  vitality, 
the  rigors  of  the  campaign,  he  returned  to  Joinville,  where 
he  died  in  13 19  at  the  age  of  ninety-five. 

A  man  of  amusing  candor  and  much  homely  shrewdness 
was  the  Sire  Jean.  In  1282  he  was  one  of  the  chief  witnesses 
before  the  council  at  St.  Denis  which  approved  the  canoni- 
zation of  St.  Louis  and  he  was  present  when  the  body  of  the 
crusader  king  was  exhumed  in  1298.  But,  though  entirely 
devoted  to  his  leader  in  the  Sixth  Crusade  and  as  brave  as 
the  bravest  in  battle,  the  good  Sire  took  no  pains  in  his  writ- 
ings to  picture  himself  as  a  man  of  heroic  mold.  Frequently 
he  admits  that  in  perilous  situations  he  was  very  much  afraid 
and  states  that  on  one  occasion  when  a  retainer  proposed 
that  he  court  the  glorious  death  of  a  martyr  by  riding  forth 
and  defying  some  of  the  Saracen  champions  to  single  com- 
bat, he  ignored  the  suggestion  entirely.  He  makes  no  plaus- 
ible excuses,  as  a  crafty  man  would  have  done,  for  declining 
to  accompany  King  Louis  on  his  last  and,  as  it  proved,  fatal 
crusade,  flatly  declaring  his  conviction  that  it  was  better  to 
be  in  mortal  sin  than  to  get  the  leprosy.  For  his  personal 
consumption  he  avowed  a  strong  preference  for  undiluted 
wine.  But  once,  when  he  regaled  his  retainers  with  a  large 
quantity  of  good  wine,  he  saw  to  it  that  the  wine  which  was 
given  to  the  soldiers  was  well  watered.  That  which  went 
to  the  men-at-arms  was  less  diluted  and  the  beverage  served 
to  the  knights  was  in  its  pristine  state  but,  by  way  of  a 
hint,  each  goblet  was  accompanied  by  a  flagon  of  water. 


J  oinville-en-V  allege  131 

Those  who  attended  the  Louisiana  Purchase  Exposition 
at  St.  Louis  in  1904  will  recall  that  the  memory  of  King 
Louis  IX  received  signal  honors  there  and  that  his  retainer 
and  biographer,  the  Sire  de  Joinville,  was  likewise  commem- 
morated  by  statues  and  otherwise.  The  statue  in  his  native 
city  presents  him  not  as  a  soldier  but  in  the  "  right  clerkly 
robes"  of  a  scholar  and  as  such  he  is  best  remembered  in 
his  own  country. 

Above  the  far  end  of  the  street  in  Joinville  on  which 
stands  the  statue  of  the  Sire  Jean  towers  up  the  great  hill 
along  the  crest  of  which  are  traced,  beneath  the  trees,  the 
ruined  gray  walls  of  the  old  chateau  in  which  he  passed  the 
greater  part  of  his  long  life.  This  imposing  structure  was 
demolished  early  in  the  eighteenth  century  and  about  1793 
the  magnificent  tombs  and  the  carven  coats  of  arms  of  the 
Sires  de  Joinville  and  the  Princes  of  Lorraine,  situated  in 
the  still  existing  Chapel  of  Ste.  Anne,  in  the  cemetery,  were 
utterly  wrecked  by  the  revolutionists  who,  in  their  ill-con- 
sidered zeal  for  their  new-found  liberties,  thus  deprived  their 
country  of  some  of  its  most  notable  works  of  art  because 
these  were  conceived  to  embody  the  spirit  of  political  or 
religious  tyranny. 

A  much  later  chateau,  erected  by  Duke  Claude  of  Guise 
as  a  pleasure  resort,  is  still  standing  in  the  midst  of  lovely 
gardens,  among  whose  ancient  trees,  mossy  and  ivy-clad,  are 
scattered  tiny  artificial  waterfalls,  lakes,  fountains,  formal 
flower  beds,  and  groups  of  statuary.  The  spot  is  today  a 
city  park,  open  to  the  public.  The  chateau  itself  is  a  fine 
example  of  the  art  of  the  Renaissance,  and  its  exterior  is 
handsomely  decorated  with  applied  columns  and  many  delic- 
ately carved  bas-reliefs. 

During  their  ascendancy  the  Joinvilles  erected  in  the  city 


132         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

several  hospitals  and  convents  and  a  college.  Today  these 
have  all  disappeared  with  the  exception  of  the  Hospital  of 
Ste.  Croix,  a  long  stone  structure  almost  barnlike  in  its  simpli- 
city which,  in  the  capacity  of  a  museum,  contains  some  inter- 
esting antiquities.  The  Church  of  Notre  Dame,  built  in  a 
combination  of  Gothic  and  Renaissance  styles,  presents  in  its 
unusually  tall  and  slender  spire  the  most  striking  feature  in 
the  panorama  of  the  city.  But  the  church  is  neither  of  great 
age  nor  of  exceptional  interest  save  for  its  magnificent  Holy 
Sepulchre,  the  work  of  Antoinette  de  Bourbon,  which  was 
removed  to  Notre  Dame  from  the  former  Convent  of  Sainte 
Anne.  But  the  old  quarter  of  the  city  around  the  church, 
with  its  narrow,  crooked  streets,  among  them  the  Rue  des 
Chanoines,  once  the  site  of  several  religious  houses;  the  Rue 
de  I'Auditoire,  reminiscent  of  the  days  when  Joinville  was 
the  capital  of  the  Vallage  region,  and  the  Rue  des  Marmou- 
sets,  where  are  still  to  be  seen  in  angular  corners  of  some 
of  the  walls  the  grotesque  stone  figures,  marmousets,  is  full 
of  old  buildings,  some  of  them  built  of  wood,  which  are  most 
quaint  and  interesting.  Many  more  such  buildings  were  un- 
doubtedly destroyed  when  the  city  was  devoted  to  pillage  and 
flames  in  1544  by  the  Germans  under  the  Emperor  Charles  v. 
An  artificial  branch  of  the  Marne,  the  Canal  des  Moulins, 
designed  for  manufacturing  purposes,  runs  through  the  lower 
part  of  the  town  and  achieves  its  primary  purpose  by  operat- 
ing a  large  flour  mill  and  various  foundries  and  other  facto- 
ries. But  a  portion  of  it  called  the  Quai  des  Peceaux  has  be- 
come a  residence  quarter,  usurping  the  place  of  industrial 
plants,  and  here  are  tiny  gardens  riotous  with  flowers  and 
grapevines  clambering  up  the  walls  of  the  gray  old  homes  and 
over  the  summer  houses  built  above  the  edge  of  the  water, 
while  mossy  stone  steps  lead  down  to  the  boat  landings  below. 


CHAPTER  IX 

ART  IN  THE  IRON  INDUSTRY 

THE  hills  of  the  Marne,  from  Joinville  northward  to 
St.  Dizier,  though  verdantly  clothed  in  orchards  and 
vineyards,  yield  a  greater  wealth  from  the  iron  ore  which 
is  mined  in  their  depths  and  converted  to  metal  in  the  high 
furnaces  of  the  region  and  then  to  commercial  ironware  in 
its  various  foundries.  Although  a  few  of  the  plants  men- 
tioned exist  in  Joinville  the  town  itself  is  not  essentially  a 
manufacturing  center  and  smaller  places  in  its  vicinity  are 
more  active  industrially.  Thus,  in  descending  the  Marne, 
Thonnance-le- Joinville  on  the  east  bank  and  Vecqueville  on 
the  west,  have  stove  factories  and  rolling  mills.  But  it  is 
only  in  the  region  of  St.  Dizier  that  the  industry  reached 
really  great  proportions  before  the  World  War,  for  the  reason 
that  it  is  there  only  that  the  ore  was  sufficiently  rich  to  com- 
pete with  the  ore  of  the  Meurthe-et-Moselle  iron  district 
around  Briey,  which  the  Germans  occupied  throughout  the 
war  and  which  they  intended  to  hold  permanently  had  they 
been  victorious. 

Most  of  the  small  foundries  and  furnaces  near  Joinville 
have  disappeared  but  they  have  left  behind  them  pretty  vil- 
lages, embowered  in  trees.  Thonnance,  in  the  Middle  Ages, 
possessed  a  great  chateau  fort  with  wide  and  deep  moats  and 
drawbridges.  This  strong  place  passed  through  some  severe 
struggles,  particularly  in  the  wars  with  the  Germans  in  the 
sixteenth  century.  At  that  time  one  of  the  high  hills  farther 
down  the  valley  gained  the  name,  La  Perche,  by  which  it  is 
still  known,  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  sentinel  who  was  always 
stationed  there  was  accustomed,  upon  observing  the  approach 

133 


134        -^^^  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

of  a  body  of  hostile  troops,  to  lower  a  white  pole,  or  perche, 
as  a  signal  to  the  garrison  of  the  chateau  to  be  prepared  for 
battle. 

At  Vecqueville,  which,  though  close  to  Joinville,  is  hidden 
from  the  latter  by  a  hill,  stands  one  of  those  rural  churches 
which  are  so  often  interesting  by  reason  either  of  their  archi- 
tecture or  of  certain  relics  within.  The  church  at  Vecque- 
ville claims  attention  on  both  scores,  as  it  contains  a  painting 
of  the  baptism  of  Clovis  by  St.  Remi,  executed  by  Henri 
Lemoine  in  1610,  while  the  sanctuary  of  the  church  itself  is 
an  excellent  piece  of  architecture  of  the  fourteenth  century, 
the  remainder  of  the  structure  being  of  later  date  and  in 
no  sense  noteworthy. 

There  is  an  interesting  explanation  of  the  fact,  observable 
in  a  great  number  of  the  French  village  churches,  that  the 
nave  is  frequently  very  inferior  in  workmanship  to  the  choir 
and  chancel.  When  these  churches  were  built  the  local  seig- 
neur as  an  act  of  religious  devotion  often  paid  for  the  con- 
struction of  the  choir  and  the  chancel.  Thus  pride,  if  no 
higher  motive,  usually  impelled  him  to  build  as  handsomely 
as  his  wealth  would  permit.  The  nave,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  left  to  the  means  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  parish  and, 
since  they  were  usually  poor,  it  was  often  correspondingly 
simple  and  inexpensive.  These  circumstances  explain,  fur- 
ther, why  the  naves  of  so  many  churches,  falling  into  decay, 
had  to  be  reconstructed  at  later  periods,  sometimes  in  poor 
imitation  of  the  original  design  and  again  in  some  new 
fashion,  out  of  harmony  with  the  older  and  more  substantial 
choir  and  chancel. 

Quarries  of  excellent  building  stone  are  in  the  hills  ad- 
jacent to  Chatonrupt,  a  village  which  nearly  eleven  hundred 
years  ago  had  a  certain  monastery  of  St.  Brice  which  was 


Art  in  the  Iron  Industry  135 

demolished  under  Charles  Martel.  This  place  lies  on  the 
west  side  of  the  river  and  like  Curel,  on  the  opposite  bank, 
and  the  other  villages  of  this  section,  was  originally  within 
the  principality  of  Joinville.  The  local  lord  of  Curel  in  the 
twelfth  century,  M.  de  Hennequin,  bore  the  sonorous  title, 
Count  of  Fresnel,  Baron  of  Curel,  Chevalier  of  the  Holy 
Roman  Empire,  and  First  Hereditary  Senechal  of  the  Prin- 
cipality of  Joinville.  The  red-roofed  village  of  today  has 
little  to  commend  it  to  attention  excepting  the  fact  that  it 
is  the  nearest  railroad  and  canal  point  to  the  noted  Val 
d'Osne  foundries,  which  lie  about  4  kilometers  to  the  east, 
in  the  narrow  valley  of  the  Osne  brook. 

It  is  a  location  most  unpropitious  for  an  industrial  plant, 
with  neither  railway  nor  canal  facilities  closer  than  the  Marne 
Valley.  But  when  the  foundries  were  established  by  M. 
Andre  in  1834  neither  railroad  nor  canal  existed  and  the 
location  was  dictated  by  the  proximity  of  the  iron  mines  and 
of  the  Forest  of  Baudray,  which  at  that  time  furnished  fuel 
for  the  works.  Since  then  the  trademark  of  the  Val  d'Osne 
upon  its  products  has  become  so  widely  known  that  its  value 
more  than  compensates  for  the  inconveniences  of  location. 
Hidden  away  among  the  green  hills,  of  which  those  lying 
nearest  to  the  works  are  blackened  by  the  smoke  and  gasses 
from  the  chimneys  and  cupolas,  here  is  found  an  industry 
which  probably  could  exist  nowhere  else  than  in  France.  The 
reason  is  that  its  prosperity  rests  chiefly  upon  the  service  of 
art.  The  ateliers  of  the  Val  d'Osne  could  not  be  better  de- 
scribed than  in  the  words  of  the  indefatigable  traveler  and 
graphic  writer,  M.  Ardouin-Dumazet,  in  the  volume  of  his 
Voyage  en  France  descriptive  of  the  Haute-Champagne  and 
Basse-Lorraine.     In  telling  of  his  visit  to  the  foundries  a 

number  of  years  before  the  war,  M.  Ardouin-Dumazet  says: 
10 


136         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

In  the  court,  into  which  I  am  conducted  by  the  porter,  the  ground 
is  heaped  with  objects  in  cast  metal.  I  observe  cupids,  a  fountain, 
a  crucifix  standing  head  downward,  a  great  stag  carrying  his  antlers 
superbly.  The  appearance  of  the  director  arrests  my  contempla- 
tion of  that  multitude  of  busts,  statues,  madonnas,  and  artistic  de- 
signs.    Very   courteously  he    gives    me    permission    to    visit    the 

factory An  employee  conducts  me  through  the  works.     We 

enter  the  molding  shop.  In  its  center  rises  superbly  a  bull  of  cast 
iron,  the  work  of  Rosa  Bonheur  and  her  brother,  Isidore,  of  which 
the  Emperor  of  Russia  and  the  Viceroy  of  Egypt  have  already  pur- 
chased reproductions  in  bronze.  The  copy  which  I  see  today  is 
destined  for  Roumania.  Seated  upon  the  animal  a  workman,  armed 
with  a  chisel,  is  removing  the  imperfections  of  the  molding,  seem- 
ing thus  to  excite  the  ferocious  beast  until  he  is  ready  to  leap. 

We  come,  then,  into  the  warehouse,  which  is  fantastic  and 
marvelous.  A  broad  alley  extends  through  its  length,  defined  by 
two  lines  of  railway  track.  On  each  side  rises  a  row  of  statues, 
some  of  them  colossal ;  Virgins  destined  to  crown  the  hills,  statues 
of  the  Republic  for  cities  of  South  America  such  as  Caracas  and 
Buenos  Aires.  All  the  decorations  of  mythology  are  there,  modern 
works  or  copies  of  the  antique;  abundant  representations  of  Venus; 
Apollo  and  Neptune  accompanied  by  an  Eloa,  as  inspired  by  the 
poem  of  Alfred  de  Vigny.  The  works  of  contemporary  artists; 
Carrier-Belleuse,  Mathurin  Moreau,  Jacquemart,  Pradier,  and  twenty 
others,  give  a  more  modern  note  in  the  midst  of  classical  repro- 
ductions. Upon  a  space  100  meters  long  and  10  meters  wide  there 
are  assembled  a  thousand  objects  of  art  in  cast  metal.  Monumental 
fountains  for  cities,  animals,  and  escutcheons,  produce  an  extraor- 
dinary effect  in  this  museum  by  reason  of  the  confusion  of  the 
subjects. 

It  is  true  that  the  foundry  produces,  in  addition  to  objects 
of  art.  a  great  deal  of  work  of  an  ordinary  commercial  nature, 
such  as  structural  iron,  piano  frames,  columns,  manhole 
covers,  gutters,  candelabra,  benches  for  city  parks,  grilles, 
and  ornamental  fences,  etc.  Nevertheless  its  reputation  rests 
chiefly  upon  its  production  of  works  of  art. 

M.  Ardouin-Dumazet  relates  further: 

The  principal  creator  of  that  part  of  the  industry  of  the  Val 


Art  in  the  Iron  Industry  137 

d'Osne  is  M.  Mignon,  who  has  always  directed  the  efforts  of  the 
foundries  into  that  channel.  The  appeal  is  to  artists  for  the  mold- 
ing of  the  beautiful  works  of  the  Louvre  and  of  Versailles.  When 
the  plant  was  founded  in  1834  molders  from  the  Museum  of  the 
Louvre  had  already  been  procured  to  organize  the  work  in  this 
obscure  valley.  Today  it  possesses  40,000  models,  of  which  800  are 
human  statues  and  250  statues  of  animals.  Such  an  abundance  of 
art  objects  are  already  fabricated  that  cities  are  able,  as  by  magic, 
to  provide  themselves  with  statues,  busts,  fountains,  and  candelabra. 
Thus  Liege,  wishing  to  celebrate  the  completion  of  some  great 
public  work,  was  able  to  find  at  the  Val  d'Osne  five  statues  which 
still  embellish  the  opulent  Belgian  city  and,  by  contrast  with  other 
objects  of  art  there,  speak  highly  of  the  superiority  of  our  indus- 
try. The  Val  d'Osne,  moreover,  obstinately  refuses  to  make  cheap 
articles  hastily  executed.  Thus  it  has  been  able  to  contract  for 
works  in  cast  iron  where  it  seemed  that  wrought  iron  had  the 
monopoly  as,  for  example,  in  the  case  of  the  beautiful  bannister 
of  the  stairway  of  the  Tuileries. 

As  one  finds  his  way  back  along  the  wooded  road  from 
the  Val  d'Osne  to  Curel  and  thence  to  Rachecourt  and  Che- 
villon,  the  timber  becomes  small  and  scattering  on  the  hills 
bordering  the  valley  and  the  steep,  stony  slopes,  clothed  with 
sparse  grass,  are  marked  by  many  winding  sheep  paths  while 
here  and  there  ruined  walls  trace  the  outlines  of  the  plots 
of  ground  where  at  one  time  vineyards  have  existed.  Rache- 
court on  the  Marne,  once  a  railhead  for  the  Thirty-second 
Division  when  the  "Red  Arrows"  were  billeted  in  this  area, 
is  an  uninteresting  village,  but  Chevillon,  a  somewhat  larger 
place,  lying  up  a  deep  ravine  east  of  it  in  the  midst  of  impor- 
tant quarries  of  white  stone,  is  more  picturesque.  The  town 
once  was  a  part  of  the  immense  estates  of  the  Joinville  fam- 
ily. It  possesses  few  reminders  of  its  medieval  days  but  at 
the  head  of  its  single  long  street,  which  travels  in  serpentine 
fashion  up  the  sloping  ground,  the  stone  church  of  massive 
construction,  presents  an  imposing  appearance  which  is  ac- 
centuated by  its  elevation. 


138         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

Immediately  upon  entering  Chevillon  the  writer  was  wit- 
ness to  a  touching  incident  well  illustrating  the  bonds  of 
sympathy  by  which  the  World  War  has  bound  together  the 
people  of  all  parts  of  France.  His  chauffeur  on  his  journey 
of  exploration  along  the  Marne  was  a  young  Frenchman 
named  Paul.  As  a  speed  artist  with  a  Ford  which  had  seen 
all  of  its  best  days  his  accomplishments  have  rarely  been 
excelled,  while  a  residence  of  eight  years  in  the  United  States 
previous  to  the  war  as  a  mechanic  in  the  Ford  factories  had 
given  him  such  uncanny  intimacy  with  the  interior  of  the 
animal  that,  given  a  nail  and  a  piece  of  baling  wire,  he  could 
make  it  navigate,  whatever  happened.  At  the  outbreak  of 
the  great  war,  Paul  had  promptly  returned  to  his  native  coun- 
try and  served  in  the  French  Army  throughout  the  conflict. 
During  that  long  four  years  he  had  been  at  different  times 
in  countless  villages  of  France,  both  along  the  front  and  in 
the  rear  areas,  and  had  once,  in  19 16,  passed  several  weeks 
in  Chevillon  when  his  division  was  in  rest  in  that  region. 
Since  his  sojourn  of  the  dark  days  of  the  war  he  had  not 
been  back.  But  as  we  drove  up  the  winding  street  and  stopped 
before  a  modest  house  under  the  shadow  of  the  church,  a 
middle-aged  woman  came  to  the  door,  who  for  a  moment 
regarded  Paul  with  the  indifference  of  a  stranger.  Then  a 
light  of  recognition  dawned  in  her  eyes;  with  a  startled  ex- 
clamation she  sprang  forward  and  grasped  his  hands,  pour- 
ing forth  a  torrent  of  welcoming  words,  for  hers  was  the 
house  in  which  he  had  been  billeted  nearly  three  years  before. 

Very  happily  she  led  us  through  the  house,  showing  us 
the  room  which  he  had  occupied,  all  the  while  recalling  to 
his  memory  other  townspeople  whom  he  had  known  and 
questioning  him  eagerly  concerning  certain  soldiers  of  his 
unit  who  had  been  at  Chevillon  at  the  same  time,  some  of 


Art  in  the  Iron  Industry  139 

whom,  as  she  learned  with  obvious  sorrow,  had  afterward 
been  killed.  Here  were  a  Parisian  and  a  villager  of  a  remote 
region  of  the  Haute-Marne  drawn  together  by  crowding  re- 
collections of  dark  days  spent  under  the  same  roof.  It  is 
hardly  possible  to  imagine  a  New  Yorker  and  a  woman  of 
an  Oklahoma  village,  for  example,  possessing  a  fund  of 
mutual  memories  capable  of  thus  instantly  renewing  cordial 
friendship  after  a  lapse  of  years.  As  we  finally  drove  ofif 
down  the  street,  Paul's  former  hostess  stood  in  her  doorway 
waving  her  farewells  until  we  turned  a  corner  and  passed 
from  sight. 

Three  or  four  kilometers  down  the  broad,  smooth  river 
road  brings  one  through  Sommeville  to  Fontaines-sur-Marne. 
On  the  way  the  track  skirts  a  charming  little  waterfall,  where 
the  river  foams  over  a  semicircular  dam  and  then  dances 
away  in  silvery  ripples  that  sway  the  reeds  and  grasses  over- 
growing the  shallows  below  the  fall.  Just  under  the  shore 
where  the  river  whispers  past  Fontaines  we  stumbled  upon 
one  of  the  loveliest  spots  imaginable  for  the  labors  of  a  work- 
a-day  world.  Down  a  steep,  shingly  bank  under  the  shadow 
of  the  stone  bridge  and  sheltered  from  the  summer  sun  by 
trees  so  dense  that  they  make  a  leafy  tunnel  of  twilight  for 
the  flowing  tide,  there  was  a  broad  stone  platform  on  which 
a  dozen  women  of  the  village  were,  at  the  moment  of  our 
advent,  doing  their  week's  washing.  Though  smilingly  averse 
to  having  their  pictures  taken  with  sleeves  rolled  up  and  soap- 
suds on  their  arms,  they  seemed  very  content,  as  well  they 
might  be,  performing  this  heavy  part  of  their  household  duties 
in  surroundings  so  cool  and  attractive  rather  than  in  a  hot 
and  steaming  kitchen  or  basement.  The  lavoir  by  the  river 
or  brookside  is  an  institution  in  every  French  village  and  it 
is  surprising  what  immaculate  laundry  work  comes,  usually. 


140        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

from  such  primitive  washing  places,  where  the  appHcation 
of  vigorous  and  wilHng  human  muscles  still  holds  precedence 
over  every  modern  labor-saving  device. 

Near  Fontaines,  on  a  rough  bit  of  open  ground  overlook- 
ing the  river,  stands  one  of  the  most  massive  and  mystifying 
relics  of  the  remote  past  which  is  to  be  found  anywhere — 
the  Menhir,  or  Haute-Borne.  It  is  a  huge,  rough-hewn  stone 
of  the  texture  of  marble,  about  6.5  feet  broad  at  the  base  and 
2  feet  thick,  standing  upright  in  the  ground  and  rising  in  a 
slightly  tapering  form  to  a  height  of  nearly  20  feet. 

Held  in  awe  and  veneration  by  the  people  of  the  Mid- 
dle Ages  as  the  emblem  of  some  godlike  protector  of  the 
region,  the  Haute-Borne  would  seem  unquestionably  to  be 
a  religious  monument  of  the  Druids  were  it  not  for  the 
fact  that  about  midway  of  the  shaft  are  still  to  be  de- 
ciphered, despite  the  weathering  of  the  storms  of  long  cen- 
turies, some  deeply  graven  Roman  characters  forming  the 
one  complete  word : 

VIROMARVS, 

and  fragments  of  some  others.  The  best  opinion  of  archaeolo- 
gists seems  to  be  that  sometime  during  the  period  of  Roman 
dominion  in  Gaul,  this  immense  stone  was  raised  as  a  boun- 
dary monument  between  the  territories  of  two  of  the  Gallic 
tribes,  and  that  the  original  inscription  probably  meant,  trans- 
lated into  English :  "  The  general,  Viromarus,  has  fixed  here 
the  frontier  of  the  State  of  the  Leuci." 

Strength  is  lent  to  the  theory  that  the  Haute-Borne  is 
of  Roman  and  not  of  Druidical  origin  by  the  fact  that  a 
short  distance  from  it,  in  the  commune  of  Gourzon,  is  a 
high  hill  called  the  Montagne  du  Chatelet  which  has  yielded 


\— -. 

r^'^i.-^ 

•^     ' 

^^■Ov 

i 

^     ■     "<^\^ 

^S' 

H    . 

s 

'^ 


-?    n 


^^i'.--. 


/ 


'^^ 


The    "lavoir"    by    the    river    is    an   institution   in    every    Marne 

village 

\Pa<je  139] 


Art  in  the  Iron  Industry  141 

to  investigators  the  remains  of  a  Roman  town.  A  later 
interest  attaches  to  Gourzon,  too,  as  a  center  in  the  Middle 
Ages  of  the  celebrated  Order  of  Malta,  which  here  possessed 
at  one  time  a  chapel  decorated  with  portraits  of  members  of 
the  order  who  had  been  canonized  as  saints. 

Some  five  or  six  kilometers  farther  down  the  river,  en- 
circled by  orchards,  lies  Eurville.  Though  noteworthy  because 
across  the  river  from  it  stands  the  Chapel  of  Ste.  Menehould, 
where  the  virtuous  and  pious  lady  of  that  name  died  about 
the  year  490,  and  because  it  possesses  a  beautiful  modern 
chateau  and  park  and  a  large  ogival  church  erected  under 
the  direction  of  the  noted  architect,  M.  Boeswilwald,  Eur- 
ville is  chiefly  conspicuous  in  the  landscape  for  its  iron  and 
steel  foundries,  which,  through  this  region,  become  more 
numerous  and  important  as  one  approaches  St.  Dizier.  Cha- 
mouilley,  on  both  sides  of  the  Marne  just  below  Eurville, 
and  Cousances-aux-Forges,  a  few  kilometers  farther  east  on 
the  little  River  Cousance,  are  the  sites  of  important  steel 
mills  and  manufacturies  of  agricultural  implements. 

But  it  is  at  Marnaval,  which  is  virtually  a  suburb  of  the 
city  of  St.  Dizier,  that  the  iron  and  steel  industry  of  the 
Haute-Marne  reaches  its  greatest  development.  Here  the 
high  furnaces  and  brick  chimneys  are  majestic  in  their  alti- 
tude and  an  atmosphere  of  activity  constantly  prevails 
throughout  the  place.  Though  for  many  years  preceding  the 
war  the  forges  and  foundries  of  Marnaval,  employing  more 
than  2,000  workers,  had  furnished  artillery  to  the  army  and 
navy,  as  well  as  large  quantities  of  construction  materials 
to  railways,  they  acquired  a  greatly  increased  importance  dur- 
ing the  international  conflict  by  reason  of  the  enormous  quan- 
tities of  munitions  and  material  which  they  then  turned  out 
for  the  French  government. 


142        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

An  amusing  anecdote  accounts  for  the  founding  of  the 
forges  of  Marnaval  so  long  ago  as  1603.  It  appears  that 
one  M.  Jean  Baudesson,  an  influential  burgher  of  St.  Dizier 
who  was  desirous  of  engaging  in  the  iron  fabricating  indus- 
try, bore  a  very  striking  personal  resemblance  to  the  jovial 
Henry  iv,  who  then  occupied  the  throne  of  France.  On  a 
progress  through  the  realm,  the  monarch  came  to  St.  Dizier 
and  Baudesson  presented  himself  beside  the  king's  carriage 
to  request  royal  authorization  for  the  establishment  of  the 
iron  works.  The  royal  bodyguard,  startled  by  his  resemblance 
to  the  king,  instinctively  presented  arms,  whereupon  Henry 
thrust  his  head  through  the  carriage  window,  stared  in  amaze- 
ment at  Baudesson  and  exclaimed: 

"Body  of  God!     Are  there,  then,  two  kings  here?" 

Then,  being  a  native  of  the  Province  of  Beam,  on  the 
border  of  Spain,  he  mischievously  added, 

"Did  your  mother,  Monsieur,  ever  go  into  Beam?" 

Baudesson,  who  was  a  high-spirited  man,  resented  this 
insinuation  and  replied  smoothly, 

"No,  my  liege,  she  did  not.  But  my  father  traveled  a 
great  deal." 

The  king,  delighted  at  this  sharp  retort,  readily  granted 
to  Baudesson  permission  to  begin  his  cherished  project. 

The  iron  industry  of  Marnaval  is  responsible  for  a  curios- 
ity, and  the  only  notable  one,  of  the  village  adjacent  to  the 
foundries.  This  is  a  modern  church  in  the  Romanesque  style 
with  twin  towers,  which  is  constructed  entirely  of  bricks  made 
from  the  refuse  cinders  of  the  industrial  plants.  At  matins 
and  vespers  the  bells  of  Marnaval  church  answer  to  those 
of  the  spires  of  St.  Dizier,  already  in  view  down  the  arborous 
avenue  of  the  river 


CHAPTER  X 

ST.    DIZIER   AND   THE   PLAIN   OF   ORCONTE 

A  WIDE  extent  of  open  fields,  bordered  on  the  north 
by  the  Marne  and  on  the  south  by  the  leafy  edge  of 
the  great  Forest  of  Val,  intervenes  between  Marnaval  and 
the  southern  outskirts  of  St.  Dizier,  for  this  city  of  14,000 
people,  the  largest  in  the  Haute-Marne,  does  not  spread  its 
suburbs  very  far  on  the  left  side  of  the  river.  As  one  ap- 
proaches the  bridge  of  Godard-Jeanson,  however,  large  steel 
mills  line  both  banks  of  the  main  channel  as  well  as  those 
of  the  canal,  which,  branching  northwestward  and  approach- 
ing the  river  once  more  several  miles  below,  virtually  forms, 
with  the  river,  a  long  island  on  which  the  greater  part  of 
the  city  is  built.  North  of  the  canal  lie  the  railway  station 
and  the  extensive  yards  from  which  radiating  spurs  extend 
to  the  industrial  plants.  Some  distance  back  from  the  wooded 
promenades  along  the  Marne.  the  ancient  Abbey  of  St.  Pan- 
taleon  rears  its  picturesque  mass  of  buildings  against  the 
southward  hills,  and  one  passes  directly  by  the  handsomely 
parked  grounds  of  the  Municipal  Hospital  as  he  enters  upon 
the  massive  Godard-Jeanson  Bridge  whose  graceful  piers, 
springing  outward  at  a  curious  curve  to  support  the  broad 
roadway,  span  the  Marne  and  bring  the  highway  into  the  city 
between  the  buildings  of  the  departmental  Asylum  for  the  In- 
sane, on  the  right  and,  on  the  left,  the  shady  lawns  and  wind- 
ing pathways  of  "The  Garden,"  the  principal  park  of  the  city. 
The  people  of  St.  Dizier  do  not  stand  much  in  need  of  public 
parks  for  the  great  forests  closely  surrounding  the  city, 
especially  those  of  Val  and  Troisfontaines,  which  contribute 
to   the   place   an   extensive   lumber   trade,    likewise    offer    in 

143 


144        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

their  cool  well-kept  depths  a  vast  extent  of  pleasure 
grounds. 

Today  essentially  a  manufacturing  city,  St.  Dizier,  never- 
theless, presents  to  the  visitor  many  interesting  traditions  and 
relics  of  the  past.  Set  so  closely  in  the  heart  of  the  town 
that  the  press  of  buildings  render  it  hard  to  find  and  difficult 
to  study  when  found,  stand  the  still  well-preserved  remains 
of  the  chateau-fort  with  eight  massive  round  towers  and  con- 
necting walls  60  feet  high,  and  a  moat  20  feet  in  depth  and 
120  feet  wide.  This  moat  is  filled  with  water  from  the  little 
River  Ornel,  which  flows  down  from  the  Forest  of  Trois- 
fontaines  and  enters  the  Marne  just  below  the  Godard- Jean- 
son  Bridge.  Illustrious  families,  such  as  the  Dampierres  and 
the  Vergys,  owned  and  occupied  the  Chateau  of  St.  Dizier 
down  to  the  time  of  the  Revolution  and  many  kings  and 
princes  enjoyed  sumptuous  entertainment  there.  Yet  the 
chateau  itself,  old  as  it  is,  presents,  in  fact,  a  comparatively 
modern  structure  built  upon  the  site  of  a  previous  strong- 
hold, the  Castellum  d'Olunna,  whose  foundation,  though  lost 
in  antiquity,  was  undoubtedly  due  to  the  Romans. 

It  is  a  significant  fact  that,  even  in  that  remote  day, 
the  great  colonizers  of  the  ancient  world  erected  the  castle 
on  the  future  site  of  St.  Dizier  in  order  to  protect  the  passage 
of  the  Marne  against  German  invaders,  who  might  be  tempted 
to  descend  upon  the  rich  towns  south  of  the  river,  even  as 
they  repeatedly  have  done  in  later  times.  The  city  itself 
seems  indirectly  to  have  owed  its  origin  to  one  of  these  Ger- 
man invasions,  for  after  the  sack  of  Langres  by  the  horde 
of  Chrocus  in  264,  the  refugees  who  escaped  from  that  ill- 
fated  city  fled  to  the  fortress  of  Olunna,  bearing  with  them 
the  body  of  their  murdered  bishop,  St.  Didier.  Here  he 
was  buried  and  after  the  extinction  of  the  Roman  power  the 


St.  Dizier  and  the  Plain  of  Orconte         145 

old  name  of  the  place  fell  into  disuse  and  that  of  St.  Didier, 
corrupted  into  St.  Dizier,  was  substituted. 

Previous  to  the  invasion  of  the  Huns  under  Attila  the 
capital  and  metropolis  of  this  whole  region,  which  is  still 
known  as  the  Perthois,  was  at  Perthes,  about  8  kilometers 
northwest  of  St.  Dizier  and  likewise  close  to  the  Marne.  But 
in  his  retirement  from  Gaul  following  his  decisive  defeat  at 
Chalons,  Attila  attacked  and  utterly  destroyed  Perthes,  which 
thereafter  never  was  rebuilt  save  as  an  insignificant  village, 
the  mantle  of  its  political  and  commercial  importance  falling 
upon  St.  Dizier.  This  importance  increased  with  time  and  in 
the  Middle  Ages  the  fortified  city  surrounded  by  its  deep 
moats  and  the  courses  of  two  rivers  and  with  its  massive 
chateau  in  the  center,  was  a  place  of  great  strategic  value 
in  the  midst  of  the  Marches  of  Lorraine.  Of  the  numerous 
sieges  which  it  underwent  through  the  centuries,  easily  the 
most  noteworthy  and  stirring  was  the  one  of  the  year  1544, 
during  the  fourth  of  the  wars  between  Francis  i  and  the 
Emperor  Charles  v  of  Germany. 

With  an  army  of  40,000  men,  the  emperor  advanced  so 
suddenly  that  the  French  had  no  time  to  prepare  resistance 
and  the  enemy  penetrated  as  far  as  St.  Dizier  almost  un- 
opposed. Contemptuously  characterizing  the  provincial  strong- 
hold as  "a  rustic  village  of  hovels,"  the  proud  German  host 
anticipated  no  trouble  in  quickly  overcoming  the  2,000  local 
militia  under  the  royal  governor,  Louis  de  Bueil,  Count  of 
Sancerre,  Captain  Lalande,  and  the  engineer  officer,  Marini, 
together  with  a  handful  of  men-at-arms  of  the  Duke  of  Or- 
leans. But  to  the  chagrin  of  the  invaders,  the  little  garrison 
made  such  a  heroic  defense  that  the  army  of  Charles  v  was 
held  before  St.  Dizier  for  six  weeks,  despite  the  fact  that 
several  desperate  assaults  were  made.     All  met  with  bloody 


146        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

repulse  and  in  one  of  them  the  emperor's  cousin,  the  young 
Prince  of  Orange,  was  killed. 

On  the  other  hand.  Captain  Lalande  and  many  other  of 
the  gallant  defenders  were  killed  and  finally,  on  August  17, 
pressed  by  famine,  the  garrison  capitulated  and  marched  out 
with  all  the  honors  of  war.  Its  defense  of  the  fortress  by 
the  banks  of  the  Marne,  the  ever  vigilant  protectress  of 
France,  had  been  sufficiently  prolonged  to  enable  the  king 
to  assemble  an  army  which,  before  long,  forced  the  imperial 
hosts  to  retire  from  France  into  the  Low  Countries. 

In  the  square  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  standing  before  the 
Municipal  Theatre,  is  a  spirited  bronze  group  commemorat- 
ing the  siege  of  1544.  Standing  upon  a  pedestal  which  rep- 
resents a  shattered  fragment  of  the  ramparts  is  the  symbolic 
figure  of  embattled  St.  Dizier,  a  beautiful  woman  with  a 
standard  raised  aloft  in  her  hand.  At  her  feet  are  figures 
in  heroic  size  of  women  and  children  casting  rocks  from  the 
ramparts  down  upon  the  Germans  and  of  the  heroic  men  in 
armor,  led  by  the  Count  of  Sancerre,  fighting  and  dying  in 
her  defense  as  they  did  on  the  day  of  the  great  assault,  July 
15,  1544.  The  group,  an  unusual  one  for  a  French  city, 
since  these  have  been  so  prone  of  recent  decades  to  raise  only 
monuments  reminiscent  of  the  disastrous  war  of  1870,  is 
easily  the  outstanding  feature  of  the  central  square,  whose 
surrounding  buildings,  including  the  Museum  and  Public 
Library,  the  Theatre,  and  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  are  of  little 
interest  architecturally  or  historically,  though  the  Hotel  de 
Ville  is  modeled  upon  the  one  in  Chaumont. 

Sleeping  peacefully  in  the  Hotel  Moderne,  which  overlooks 
the  square,  the  Place  d'Armes,  the  writer  was  aroused  about 
sunrise  one  morning  by  the  rolling  of  drums  and  the  occa- 
sional  flourish   of   a   bugle.      Thrusting   his   head    from   the 


St.  Dizier  and  the  Plain   of  Orconte  l^J 

window  with  a  caution  calculated  to  discount  observation  he 
beheld  a  column  of  poilus  marching  with  jaunty  step  across 
the  square  past  the  base  of  the  Monument  du  Siege,  their 
faces  in  the  level  morning  Siunlight,  the  drummer  and  the 
bugler  at  their  head.  And  as  his  eye  embraced,  in  the  same 
glance,  the  tense  bronze  figures  above  them,  Sancerre  in  front 
with  upraised  sword  and  open  lips  shouting  defiance,  the 
thought  came  naturally  that  if  in  nearly  four  centuries,  the 
youth  of  France  has  changed  so  little  in  courage  and  pa- 
triotism and  devotion,  as  these  marching  soldiers,  veterans  of 
the  greatest  war  of  history,  had  amply  proved,  then  the 
future  of  France  is  surely  safe,  whatever  may  befall. 

A  short  distance  east  of  the  Place  d'Armes  stands  the 
Church  of  Notre  Dame,  built  after  the  destruction  by  fire 
in  1775  of  the  medieval  structure  which  formerly  occupied 
the  site  and  some  fragments  of  which  are  incorporated  in 
the  present  edifice.  It  is  an  imposing  building  of  Renaissance 
design  housing  a  few  valuable  pictures  and  pieces  of  statuary, 
including  a  painting  of  St.  Charles  of  Borromea,  by  Salvator 
Rosa.  Fire  or  siege  seem  to  have  injured  nearly  all  the  more 
important  ancient  buildings  of  St.  Dizier,  either  before  or 
during  the  Revolution,  but  an  atmosphere  of  pensive  anti- 
quity haunts  the  purlieus  of  the  Marne  as  one  follows  its 
secluded  wanderings  westward  through  the  Faubourg  de  la 
None,  where  its  surface,  shyly  reflecting  the  clambering  gar- 
dens, rustic  fences,  and  uneven  tile  roofs  of  modest  subur- 
ban cottages,  is  broken  sometimes  into  rippling  laughter  as 
the  current  finds,  for  a  moment's  sport,  the  wheel  of  some 
old-fashioned  mill  to  turn. 

As  one  comes  out  once  more  upon  the  flat,  open  country, 
marked  north  of  the  river  by  the  rigid  lines  of  the  highroad 
and  the  canal  extending  toward  Vitry-le-Frangois,   he  may 


148        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

recall  that  it  was  on  this  lance-straight  road,  in  the  early 
morning  of  January  27, 18 14,  that  the  cavalry  advance  guards 
of  Napoleon,  marching  boldly  forward  from  Chalons  into  the 
face  of  the  mighty  invading  armies  of  Bliicher  and  Schwar- 
zenberg  coming  from  the  Rhine,  encountered  and  hurled  back 
in  panic  flight  through  St.  Dizier,  Bliicher's  strong  vanguard 
of  Russian  cavalry  under  Lanskoi.  The  maneuver  was  one 
of  the  strokes  of  brilliant  strategy  which  illuminated,  as  by  a 
series  of  lightning  flashes,  the  last  wonderful  campaign  of 
the  Emperor  of  the  French  against  the  armies  of  confederated 
Europe.  By  the  reoccupation  of  St.  Dizier  he  separated  the 
forces  of  his  two  chief  opponents  and  prepared  the  way  for 
the  stinging  defeat  which  he  inflicted,  three  days  later,  upon 
Bliicher  at  Brienne,  40  kilometers  to  the  southwest.  But 
another  locality  close  at  hand  is  identified  with  a  still  more 
significant,  if  also  more  melancholy,  episode  in  the  career  of 
the  Corsican.     This  will  be  touched  upon  in  a  moment. 

Westward  and  northwestward  of  St.  Dizier  the  valley  of 
the  Marne  expands,  stretching  away  for  many  leagues  in  the 
great  alluvial  plain  of  Orconte ;  a  region  of  fertile  farm  lands 
whose  winding  roads,  broad  fields,  and  peaceful  villages  lie 
embowered  among  poplars,  willows,  alders,  and  other  of  the 
heavily  foliaged  trees  which  are  characteristic  of  the  low- 
lands. Rock  is  scarce  in  this  favored  region,  "the  Mesopo- 
tamia of  Champagne,"  and  the  wayfarer  is  struck  by  a  sudden 
change  in  the  construction  of  the  houses.  The  massive  ma- 
sonry of  the  upper  river  has  disappeared  and  walls  of  plaster 
or  clay  bedded  between  rough-hewn  timbers  have  taken  its 
place.  More  often  than  not  the  wooden  framework  is  set 
with  little  regard  to  geometrical  symmetry,  but  its  artless 
irregularity  is  singularly  pleasing.  Though  less  carefully  con- 
structed, the  houses  call  to  mind  the  type  of  dwelling  popular 


Fill-  -    H'   ■■fesS:.:---£5^:^,: 


|!  ifj^i  s^i'%^- 


in'^'/i-    -.     -^S^*^^"*?- 


-tCHBC,.. 


^Ilj, 


(  . 


.-^-^       ''. 


The  narrow,  crooked  streets  around  the  church,  Joinville 

[Page  132] 


Timbered  liouses.      Hauteville 


[Page  156] 


Oh 


U 

Q 

!X1 


St.  Dizier  and  the  Plain  of  Orconte  149 

in  England  during  the  period  of  Elizabeth.  With  their  low- 
pitched,  broad-eaved  tile  roofs  and  square  chimneys  and  the 
heavily  shuttered  windows  set  in  walls  which  often  support 
a  carefully  trained  and  trimmed  grapevine  or  pear  tree,  the 
homes  of  this  remote  bit  of  the  Marne  Valley  are  charming 
to  the  eye,  though  to  the  inhabitants  of  them  perhaps  less 
comfortable  than  they  would  be  if  built  of  stone. 

The  first  bend  below  St.  Dizier  brings  one  to  Valcourt, 
close  to  which,  in  the  bluffs  on  the  south  side  of  the  river, 
are  some  curious  caverns  hollowed  out  in  days  of  old  in 
exploiting  a  deposit  of  very  fine  sand.  Great  columns  of 
living  rock  tower  up,  supporting  a  roof  which  was  groined 
as  excavation  progressed  and  the  huge,  cloistered  galleries, 
long  since  abandoned  in  favor  of  more  easily  worked  pits 
under  the  open  sky,  are  now  floored  with  a  sheet  of  limpid 
water  which  has  been  purified  by  filtration  through  the  sands. 

Through  Valcourt  the  writer  and  Paul,  borne  by  their 
faithful  flivver,  pursued  a  country  road  climbing  upward 
along  a  ridge  whose  base  is  closely  hugged  by  the  Marne. 
Just  beyond  Moeslain  it  attains  an  elevation  from  which  the 
whole  vast  valley  of  Orconte  seems  spread  like  a  map  beneath 
the  beholder's  feet  and  he  may  look  down  a  sheer  descent  of 
more  than  50  meters  to  the  Marne  rushing  swiftly  along 
the  base  of  one  of  the  most  singular  cliffs  that  exists  on  the 
entire  length  of  the  river.  It  is  called  the  Cotes  Noires. 
Semicircular  in  outline  and  about  a  kilometer  long,  these 
black  hills  are  composed  of  a  sort  of  sooty-colored  clay  broken 
by  stratifications  of  red  clay  and  marl.  The  black  earth  has 
been  washed  down  by  the  rains  in  steep  and  deeply  eroded 
channels;  the  harder  substance  of  the  red  clay  and  marl  has 
resisted  the  elements  and  remained  projecting  in  razorback 
ridges  and  fantastic  turrets  and  spires  above  the  general  sur- 


150        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

face  of  the  cliff,  whose  seamed  and  somber  face,  towering 
from  the  river,  contrasts  grotesquely  with  the  valley's  surface 
of  smiling  green  woodlands  and  golden  harvest  fields. 

Two  villages,  Hoericourt  and  Moeslain,  lie  close  at  hand, 
but  they  are  hidden  from  view  behind  the  woods  which  cloak 
the  swift-flowing  river  and  it  is  only  St.  Dizier,  raising  above 
the  far  eastward  horizon  the  outlines  of  its  spires  and  factory 
chimneys,  feathered  with  smoke,  which  conveys  a  remote  sug- 
gestion of  modern  industrial  activity  into  the  scene.  In  the 
edge  of  the  woodland  which  crowns  the  very  summit  of  the 
cliff  stands  a  slender  brick  shaft  perhaps  seventy  feet  high, 
which  the  writer  took  to  be  a  monument  commemorating  the 
battle  fought  in  this  vicinity  in  18 14.  He  therefore  left  the 
highroad  and  walked  up  a  straight,  narrow  lane,  hedged  with 
blackberry  bushes,  leading  to  the  monument.  His  progress 
was  retarded  by  the  presence  of  limitless  dead-ripe  blackber- 
ries, the  fruit  which  the  normally  thrifty  Frenchman,  animated 
by  some  ancient  superstition  that  blackberries  induce  fever, 
utterly  declines  to  utilize,  but  he  eventually  reached  his  goal 
on  top  of  the  hill.  The  shaft,  however,  proved  to  be,  not  a 
reminder  of  a  bygone  battle  but  an  elaborate  surveying  monu- 
ment, probably  a  triangulation  point  on  this  commanding  emi- 
nence. A  square  stone,  chiseled  with  the  points  of  the  com- 
pass, is  set  in  the  ground  under  the  center  of  the  shaft,  directly 
beneath  a  hole  in  its  lofty  top,  and  in  its  base,  bricks  are  also 
displaced  for  sighting  to  the  cardinal  points. 

From  the  vicinity  of  the  monument  it  is  possible  to  over- 
look most  of  the  ground  covered  by  the  battle  of  the  Cotes 
Noires,  March  26,  18 14,  a  conflict  not  much  dwelt  upon  in 
history  yet  remarkable  because  it  was  literally  the  last  vic- 
tory achieved  by  the  great  Napoleon.  Fighting,  as  always  in 
the  disastrous  18 14  campaign,  against  foes  swarming  upon 


St.  Dizier  and  the  Plain  of  Orconte         151 

him  from  every  side  in  numbers  many  times  his  own,  the 
emperor,  who  had  lately  suffered  severe  defeats  at  Laon  and 
Craonne,  on  his  left  flank,  in  vain  efforts  to  prevent  the  junc- 
tion of  Bliicher's  army  with  those  of  Biilow  and  von  Wintzin- 
gerode  on  the  Aisne,  formed  the  desperate  but  magnificent 
design  of  leaving  Paris  to  its  own  resources  for  a  few  days 
and,  with  his  army,  moving  boldly  eastward  toward  the  Rhine. 
In  the  fortresses  of  Lorraine  and  Alsace  he  still  had  thou- 
sands of  troops  besieged  by  the  Allies.  These  he  planned  to 
relieve,  unite  them  to  his  depleted  army  and  then  with  the 
latter,  thus  reinforced,  to  turn  upon  the  enemy's  main  armies 
between  his  own  and  Paris,  cut  their  communications  with 
the  Rhine,  and  involve  them  in  a  defeat  more  disastrous  than 
that  of  Melas  at  Marengo. 

In  normal  circumstances,  dazzling  success  would  unques- 
tionably have  rewarded  his  enterprise.  But  the  Allies  were  des- 
perate. Finding  Paris  uncovered  before  them  they  resolved 
to  throw  discretion  to  the  winds  and  to  possess  themselves  of 
the  seat  of  French  empire  while  the  opportunity  offered,  trust- 
ing, even  at  the  risk  of  military  disaster,  to  compass  the  over- 
throw of  Napoleon  through  the  political  effect  of  their  coup  de 
main.  For  once  in  their  vacillating  careers  the  generals  of  the 
Aulic  council  read  the  situation  accurately.  The  emperor, 
believing  that  Bliicher  and  Schwarzenberg  would  dare  do 
nothing  but  follow  him  when  he  moved  toward  the  Rhine, 
marched  boldly  east  from  the  Aube  in  the  direction  of  Metz. 
Pursuing  him  and  diligently  spreading  the  rumor  that  they 
were  but  the  advance  guard  of  Bliicher  and  Schwarzenberg's 
dismayed  hosts,  came  von  Wintzingerode  with  8,000  cavalry, 
3,000  of  them,  under  Tettenborn,  keeping  touch  with  the 
French  rear. 

On  March  25,  Napoleon,  becoming  convinced  that  cavalry 
11 


1^2        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

only  and  not  the  main  body  of  the  AUied  armies,  was  follow- 
ing him,  saw  that  his  daring  maneuver  had  failed  of  its  object 
and  hastily  deflected  the  march  of  his  forces,  turning  north- 
ward toward  the  Marne  at  St.  Dizier  in  order  to  regain  a 
direct  road  to  Paris.  Von  Wintzingerode  and  Tettenborn 
alone,  with  their  horsemen,  were  at  hand  to  oppose  him  and 
their  numbers  were  totally  inadequate  to  the  task.  Drawing 
up  his  troops  along  the  road  between  St.  Dizier  and  Perthes, 
facing  the  heights  south  of  the  Marne  with  the  Cotes  Noires 
almost  directly  opposite  his  center,  von  Wintzingerode,  on  the 
morning  of  March  26,  sought  to  form  a  curtain  behind  which 
Tettenborn  might  fly  from  the  approaching  tempest.  But  in 
vain.  Alison,  in  his  History  of  Europe  from  lySp  to  1815, 
says: 

The  attack  of  the  French  was  so  rapid  and  with  such  overwhelm- 
ing force,  that  there  were  no  means  whatever  of  either  stop- 
ping or  retarding  it.  Their  troops  deployed  with  incredible  rapidity; 
column  after  column  descended  from  the  neighboring  plateau  into 
the  valley  of  the  Marne ;  powerful  batteries  were  erected  on  all  the 
eminences,  which  sent  a  storm  of  round-shot  and  bombs  through  the 
Allied  ranks;  and  under  cover  of  this  fire  the  French  infantry,  cav- 
alry, and  artillery  crossed  the  Marne  at  the  ford  of  Hallignicourt 
and  forthwith  fell  upon  Tettenborn,  who  was  speedily  routed  and 
driven  with  great  loss  towards  Vitry.  Von  Wintzingerode's  main 
body  was  next  assailed  by  10,000  French  cavalry,  supported  by  a 
large  body  of  infantry;  while  the  succeeding  columns  of  the  army, 
stretching  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  presented  the  appear- 
ance of  an  interminable  host.  The  Russian  horse  were  unable  to 
resist  the  shock ;  they  had  time  only  to  fire  a  few  rounds ;  in  a  few 
minutes  cavalry  and  artillery  were  fairly  routed.  In  utter  confusion, 
the  Russian  horse  now  made  for  the  road  to  Bar-le-Duc,  where 
Benkendorff,  with  a  regiment  of  dragoons  and  three  of  Cossacks,  with 
some  guns,  had  taken  up  a  good  position  flanked  by  an  impassable 
morass.  By  the  firm  countenance  of  a  brave  rear-guard  the  pursuit 
was  checked,  and  Von  Wintzingerode  gained  time  to  reform  his  men 
and  continue  his  retreat  to  Bar-le-Duc  without  further  molestation, 
from  whence,  next  day,  he  retired  to  Chalons.    The  French  loss  in 


St.  Dizier  and  the  Plain  of  Orconte  153 

this  brilliant  affair  did  not  exceed  700  men,  while  the  Allies  were 
weakened  by  2,000,  of  whom  500  were  made  prisoners,  and  nine 
pieces  of  cannon. 

After  this  last  victory,  Napoleon,  rapidly  approaching 
Paris,  which  was  defended  only  by  a  handful  of  loyal  troops, 
found  the  city  already  occupied  by  the  enemy  who  had  been 
welcomed  by  the  disaffected  and  war-weary  elements  of  the 
population.  Thus,  abandoned  in  the  hour  of  adversity  by  most 
of  the  men  whom  his  favor  had  raised  to  greatness  and  power, 
he  found  himself  in  a  few  days  compelled  to  abdicate  his 
throne.  Such  is  the  moving  drama  of  glory  and  disaster  which 
passes  through  the  mind  of  the  beholder  as  he  gazes  from  the 
crest  of  the  Cotes  Noires  across  the  Marne  and  the  slumberous 
valley  of  Orconte. 

Passing  La  Neuville-au-Pont,  a  few  kilometers  beyond  the 
Cotes  Noires,  the  Marne  leaves  the  department  of  its  nativity, 
the  Haute-Marne,  and  enters  the  Department  of  the  Marne 
between  that  village  and  tree-embowered  Ambrieres.  A  high- 
road crosses  the  river  at  the  latter  place  and  wanders  through 
flat  fields  over  a  flat  bridge  spanning  the  straight  and  dead- 
level  canal  into  a  flat,  sprawling,  and  unattractive  village, 
which,  nevertheless,  was  once  a  place  of  such  importance 
that,  little  of  its  actual  history  being  known,  legend  has  woven 
for  it  garments  of  barbaric  splendor. 

This  place  is  Perthes,  in  ancient  days  the  capital  and  met- 
ropolis of  Perthois,  a  district  400  leagues  square.  The  ruins 
of  Roman  and  Gallo-Roman  structures  which  have  been  exca- 
vated upon  a  huge  circuit  around  the  present  village  amply 
prove  that  in  the  days  of  the  Roman  power  it  was  a  city  great 
and  densely  populated.  Its  early  rulers  were  styled  Kings  of 
Perthois.  About  the  middle  of  the  Fifth  century,  a.  d.,  one 
Count  Sigmar  was  the  lord  of  Perthes,  a  man  who  was  the 


154        ^^^  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

father  of  seven  daughters,  every  one  of  whom  was  canonized, 
the  most  noted  one  being  Ste.  Menehould,  after  whom  the  city 
of  the  Argonne  is  named.  Sigmar  defended  Perthes  against 
the  hordes  of  Attila  when  they  fell  upon  it  in  451,  but  his 
efforts  were  in  vain.  The  Huns  stormed  the  city  and  utterly 
destroyed  it.  The  surviving  inhabitants,  after  Attila's  depar- 
ture, did  not  rebuild  upon  the  old  site  but  moved  a  little  farther 
eastward  and  settled  at  St.  Dizier.  Perthes  never  regained 
aught  of  its  former  importance,  though  the  title  of  Counts  of 
Perthes  continued  to  be  borne  for  a  long  time  by  a  powerful 
family,  one  of  whose  members,  Munderic,  was  the  rival  of 
Thierry,  King  of  Austrasia,  in  the  Sixth  century.  One  may 
still  see  at  Perthes  a  fine  parish  church  of  the  Thirteenth  cen- 
tury, while  the  ruins  of  its  era  of  greatness  are  of  much 
interest. 

The  canal  and  the  straight  National  highway  to  Vitry-le- 
Frangois  leave  the  Marne  close  to  Perthes,  and  the  river  wan- 
ders away  eastward  like  a  truant  through  a  long  series  of  short, 
deeply  wooded  bends,  upon  whose  banks  only  at  rare  intervals 
encroach  the  modest  dwellings  of  some  remote  village.  Such 
conduct  on  the  part  of  the  Marne  is  characteristic.  To  feel  all 
the  subtlety  of  its  charm,  one  must  recognize  its  native  shy- 
ness, its  instinctive  shrinking  from  publicity.  The  American 
artist,  Joseph  Pennell,  once  gracefully  phrased  this  mood  of 
the  river  when  he  wrote : 

It  is  not,  like  the  Seine,  "bordered  by  cities  and  hoarse  with  a 
thousand  cries."  On  its  banks  is  no  romantic  succession  of  castles, 
as  on  the  Loire  and  the  Rhone,  or  of  pretty  villages,  as  on  the 
Saone.  It  is  so  shy  that  often,  as  at  Chaumont,  you  may  think 
yourself  miles  away  from  the  nearest  house,  while  beyond  the  wood 
or  behind  the  hill  rise  the  smoke  and  spires  of  a  thriving  town.  The 
scenery  is  as  quiet.  While  most  rivers  starting  from  a  high  plateau 
force  their  way  violently  through  gorges  and  tear  like  torrents  across 


St.  Dizier  and  the  Plain   of  Orconte  155 

the  country,  the  Marne  flows  as  placidly  as  the  streams  of  the  Lotus- 
Eaters'  land,  and  draws  its  waters  as  slowly  from  the  purple  hills. 
Here  and  there  the  shores  contract  and  fall  to  the  water  in  vertical 
cliffs,  but  on  a  miniature  and  dainty  scale.  Then  the  high  banks 
gradually  lower,  and  the  landscape  widens,  and  on  each  side  stretches 
the  broad,  beautiful  plain  where  cattle  are  at  pasture.  Sometimes 
the  plain  meets  the  white  horizon,  sometimes  it  is  bounded  by  low, 
rolling  hills,  and  always  it  is  full  of  variety  of  light  and  shadow. 
On  the  Marne  one  remembers  the  definition  of  classic  landscape  as 
one  in  which  everything  is  elegantly,  not  passionately,  treated;  for 
everywhere,  in  the  curves  of  the  river,  in  the  tree  forms  and  in  their 
grouping,  in  the  lines  of  the  rounded  hills,  in  the  tender  green  of 
the  meadow  land,  is  this  elegance  —  the  elegance  of  Claude,  of  Corot. 
The  river  never  quickens  its  pace.  It  is  not  met  by  any  great  tribu- 
taries, only  occasionally  by  a  sluggish  brook,  which,  however,  I  always 
found  dignified  into  a  river  in  the  guidebook. 

Such  a  "river"  as  Mr.  Pennell  mentions  is  the  Blaise.  It 
comes  winding  down  through  the  great  forests  from  a  source 
not  far  from  Chaumont  and  glides  so  secretly  into  the  Marne 
below  Perthes  that  the  writer  waded  for  fifteen  minutes 
through  reeds  and  tall  grass  and  played  hide-and-seek  among 
trees  and  saplings  so  dense  that  their  foliage  made  twilight  of 
mid-afternoon,  before  he  was  able  to  stumble  upon  the  buried 
little  stream,  whose  mouth  is  yet  hardly  600  yards  from  the 
confines  of  two  villages,  Larzicourt  and  Arrigny.  The  first  is 
on  the  north,  and  the  second  on  the  south,  side  of  the  Marne 
and  a  long  stone  bridge,  lacking  the  usual  arches,  stretches 
between  them. 

Larzicourt's  streets  of  generous  breadth  are  lined  with  low- 
roofed  old  clay-and-timber  houses  rambling  down  toward  the 
water  and  above  its  fruit  trees  and  evergreens  an  octagonal, 
slate-covered  spire  points  to  the  peaceful  blue  sky.  The 
church,  quaintly  square  and  solid,  uplifts  its  spire  upon  a 
square  tower  whose  latticed  windows  give  to  it  an  odd  resem- 
blance  to   a  knightly  helmet   with   vizor  lowered.     Yet   this 


156        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

structure  is,  on  the  whole,  less  picturesque  than  the  neighbor 
to  whom  its  musical  bell  gives  answer  across  the  meadows,  at 
Hauteville,  a  short  distance  back  up  the  river.  Hauteville's 
square  tower  rests  upon  the  transept  of  the  church  and  tapers 
to  a  slender  spire  and  four  pointed  turrets,  all  upborne  by 
Romanesque  buttresses  carrying  double-arched  windows 
between  them;  a  gem  of  a  parish  church,  instinct  with 
antiquity  as  a  moss-grown  boulder.  The  road  leading  up 
between  grassy  earthern  embankments  and  slender  trees  from 
the  Marne  bridge  to  Hauteville  is  almost  Breton  in  its  minia- 
ture prettiness  and  the  triple-arched  bridge  itself  excites  curi- 
osity because  of  the  fact  that  above  the  piers  are  carven 
wreaths,  similar  to  those  on  the  Napoleonic  bridges  of  Paris, 
indicating  that  perhaps  the  Hauteville  bridge,  too,  owes  its 
foundation  to  Napoleon  i  who  did  so  much  for  the  highways  of 
France. 

It  is  typical  of  the  wealth  of  France  in  historical  associa- 
tion as  well  as  significant,  in  such  associations,  of  the  place 
of  the  Marne  as  the  protectress  of  the  land  and  the  embodi- 
ment of  patriotism,  that  in  this  sylvan  valley  of  Orconte,  per- 
haps 6  miles  broad  and  16  long  between  St.  Dizier  and  Vitry- 
le-Frangois,  as  secluded  a  region,  surely,  as  may  be  found  in 
France,  there  lie  several  spots  so  eloquent  of  the  nation's 
past.  Allusion  has  already  been  made  to  the  dignity  of  Per- 
thes in  the  obscure  years  of  declining  Rome.  Six  miles  from 
this  venerable  capital  and,  like  it  lying  close  to  the  canal,  is 
the  hamlet  of  Matignicourt.  In  the  broad  fields  thereby,  on 
September  17,  1891,  France  signalized  to  her  own  people  and 
to  the  world  her  military  regeneration  from  the  war  of  1870 
by  a  great  review  held  before  the  then  President  of  the  Repub- 
lic, M.  Sadie-Carnot.  Twenty-three  years  later,  in  the  early 
days  of  September,  19 14,  around  Frignicourt,  5  or  6  kilome- 


St.  Dizier  and  the  Plain  of  Orconte  157 

ters  below  Matignicourt,  probably  some  of  the  very  men  who 
had  participated  in  that  martial  spectacle,  together  with  others 
who  were  their  worthy  successors,  fought  heroically  and  suc- 
cessfully to  defend  the  crossings  of  the  Marne  against  the 
ancient  enemies  and  proved  for  all  time  that  the  rejuvenation 
forecasted  at  Matignicourt  had,  in  very  truth,  taken  place. 

That  huge  review  of  1891,  regarded  by  Frenchmen  as  so 
important  that  it  is  commemorated  by  monuments  on  the  field, 
in  Vitry-le-FranQois  and  in  Chalons-sur-Marne,  was  partici- 
pated in  by  four  army  corps  numbering  120,000  men  under 
General  Saussier.  It  followed  extensive  battle  maneuvers 
which  had  just  been  completed  in  Champagne  and  of  its 
impressiveness  an  eyewitness  wrote : 

The  effect  produced  by  that  spectacle  was  magical.  Those  com- 
pact divisions,  the  leaders  followed  by  a  sea  of  bayonets  all  undulating 
to  a  rhythmic  march,  waked  an  impression  of  irresistible  power  and 
strength.  The  plaudits  were  hushed;  in  fascination  the  spectators 
watched  the  progress  of  those  splendid  troops,  seeming  to  breathe 
with  them  as,  defiling  before  the  chief  of  the  State,  they  moved  with 
still  more  martial  carriage,  the  flags  dipped  and  the  sabers  of  the 
officers  inclined  toward  the  ground  in  a  salute  dignified  and  noble. 
From  the  dusty  artillery  teams,  the  bright  dolmans  of  the  chasseurs 
and  the  flashing  helmets  of  the  dragoons  to  the  wagons  of  the  trains 
there  was  radiated  intense  life  animated  by  an  indomitable  spirit. 
Before  us  passed  the  soul  of  our  native  land. 

Twenty-three  years  later  at  Frignicourt,  at  Mont  Mort, 
and  Ecriennes,  where  the  thunderous  battle  line  crossed  the 
Marne  between  Paris  and  Verdun,  there  was  none  of  the  dis- 
play and  martial  glitter  of  the  great  review.  But  in  the  veins 
of  the  French  poilus,  staggering  under  the  weariness  of  long 
marches  and  stained  with  the  grime  of  battle,  there  flowed 
even  more  swiftly  the  spirit  of  patriotic  devotion  and  self- 
sacrifice,  presaged  long  ago  in  the  presence  of  Carnot,  the 
martyr  president. 


158        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

In  our  leisurely  journey  down  the  Marne  we  have  now 
arrived  at  the  easternmost  edge  of  the  zone,  extending  thence 
nearly  to  Paris,  in  which  the  river  has  played  a  major  role 
in  more  than  one  event  which  has  been  of  supreme  importance 
not  alone  to  France  but  to  the  entire  world.  Within  the  next 
150  kilometers  of  the  valley  lie  Vitry-le-Frangois,  Chalons, 
Chateau-Thierry,  and  Meaux.  Of  these,  one,  Chalons,  has 
been  famed  for  nearly  fifteen  hundred  years  as  the  spot  where 
Western  civilization  was  saved  from  subjugation  by  the  East. 
The  other  three,  during  the  years  of  the  World  War,  gained 
immortal  places  in  the  annals  of  France,  England,  and  Amer- 
ica because  at  their  gates  the  hordes  of  invasion  were  again 
stayed. 

Passing  by  tiny  Frignicourt  where,  on  either  side  of  the 
road,  lie  enclosed  in  neat  fences  several  rows  of  those  pitiful 
wooden  crosses  which  the  passing  soldier  always  salutes,  rest- 
ing places  of  some  of  the  men  of  the  Twelfth  Corps  and  the 
Colonial  Corps  who  defended  the  bridge  across  the  Marne  on 
September  6,  1914,  we  pass  over  this  bridge  and,  turning 
north,  go  by  the  station  and  the  railroad  yards.  Then,  with 
the  Marne  traversing  the  western  part  of  the  city  a  little  dis- 
tance to  our  left,  we  enter  Vitry-le-Frangois  by  the  Avenue  de 
Colonel  Moll  and  the  Rue  de  Frignicourt. 


CHAPTER  XI 

VITRY-LE-FRANCOIS  AND  THE   FIRST   BATTLE  OF  THE   MARNE 

AS  THE  ages  of  cities  go  in  France,  Vitry-le-Frangois  is 
a  modern  town.  Possessing  today  about  8,500  people, 
it  was  built  in  1545  by  order  of  King  Francis  i  to  replace 
Vitry-en-Perthois,  which  stood  on  the  slopes  of  the  Saulx 
River,  4  kilometers  to  the  northeast  of  Vitry-le-Frangois,  the 
former  town  having  been  burned  in  1544  by  the  Germans  of 
Charles  v.  Although  less  salubriously  located  than  the  place 
which  it  supplanted,  the  new  Vitry  was  laid  out  on  a  regular 
and  harmonious  plan  by  the  Italian  architect,  Marina,  with 
wide,  straight  streets  and  generous  squares  and  parks,  which, 
though  they  lend  to  the  city  on  account  of  its  flat  situation  a 
rather  monotonous  and  barren  appearance,  undoubtedly  confer 
upon  the  inhabitants  a  greater  degree  of  comfort  than  is  the 
portion  of  those  dwelling  in  places  more  ancient  and  pictur- 
esque, but  less  well  supplied  with  pure  air  and  modern  sanita- 
tion. 

Fortified  in  the  most  approved  manner  at  the  time  of  its 
founding,  the  ramparts  of  Vitry  were  demolished  in  the  nine- 
teenth century.  The  outlines  of  most  of  them  can  still  be 
traced  in  the  boulevards  and  promenades,  some  of  which  are 
further  defined  by  still  existing  moats,  filled  with  living  water 
from  the  Marne  and  the  canals.  But  the  most  remarkable  sur- 
viving relic  of  the  fortifications  is  the  beautiful  Porte  du  Pont, 
at  the  entrance  to  the  bridge  across  the  Marne  on  the  high- 
road leading  through  the  extensive  military  barracks  of  the 
Quartier  des  Indes  toward  Sezanne  and  Paris.  This  noble 
structure  laid  of  massive  oblong  blocks  of  stone  is  ornamented 
above  the  rounded  archway  of  the  gate  with  the  richly  blaz- 

159 


l6o        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

oned  arms  of  the  city  carved  in  deeply  cut  bas-relief,  while  at 
each  side  of  the  gate  are  symbolic  groupings  of  weapons  and 
flags  extending  to  a  height  of  more  than  24  feet  above  the 
pavement.  A  stone  balustrade  surrounds  the  top  of  the  edifice, 
while  eight  sculptured  groups  of  armored  figures,  each  sur- 
rounded by  flags  and  implements  of  warfare,  rise  above  the 
balustrade,  four  on  the  interior  and  four  on  the  river  side. 

Every  current  of  the  city  tends  toward  the  central  Place 
d'Armes,  where  the  Church  of  Notre  Dame  lifts  its  formida- 
ble bulk  above  the  small  shops  and  the  square-cut  trees  of  the 
Plaza.  A  strong  resemblance  to  St.  Sulpice  of  Paris  is  notice- 
able in  this  Notre  Dame,  with  its  massive,  turreted  square 
towers,  though  the  great  superposed  columns  defining  the  por- 
tal and  the  corners  of  the  towers  render  the  front  more  impos- 
ing than  that  of  the  Paris  structure.  The  church  was  begun 
by  the  king  in  1629  and  completed  through  the  munificence  of 
many  noble  families  residing  in  the  vicinity  of  Vitry.  The 
bones  of  numerous  members  of  these  families  were  formerly 
interred  under  the  floor,  which  was  solidly  paved  with  tomb- 
stones, but  both  bones  and  sepulchers  have  disappeared  dur- 
ing the  course  of  later  restorations. 

Some  large  flouring  mills,  built,  after  the  sightly  manner 
of  many  such  buildings  in  France,  over  the  channel  of  the 
river  below  the  Porte  du  Pont,  or  along  the  banks  of  the 
circuitous  canals,  give  color  to  the  older  quarter  of  the  town, 
though  every  section  is  dominated  by  the  castle-like  towers 
and  roof  of  Notre  Dame,  which  gives  a  still  more  decided 
character  to  the  Place  d'Armes,  with  its  graceful  bronze  foun- 
tain in  the  center  and  its  radiating  vistas  of  broad  streets 
defined  by  well-built  business  houses. 

In  Vitry-le-Frangois,  at  the  outbreak  of  the  war  in  19 14, 
was  located  the  General  Headquarters  Staff  of  the  French 


^.i. 


f  H''^  "rr^B'T!' 


''^i  SL'Mi 


JJ      e. 


■S«s:s^»- 


"^Ififc-' 


?lj^- 


a?f--. 


The  mills  at  Vitry-le-Fran9ois 


[Page  160] 


Vitry-le-Fran9ois  has  wide,  straight  streets 


[Page  159] 


A  battlefield  of  the  Marne 


[Page  92] 


Sector  of  the  Marne  battlefield   near  Mezy 


[Page  163] 


Vitry-le-Frangois  and  the  First  Battle        i6i 

armies;  a  fact  which  rendered  the  place  one  of  marked  impor- 
tance during  the  early  phases  of  the  battle  of  the  Marne.  The 
approach  of  the  German  armies  forced  the  evacuation  of  the 
place  on  September  5  by  both  the  civilian  population  and  the 
troops  of  General  Langle  de  Gary's  Fourth  Army,  barely  500 
or  600  inhabitants  remaining  after  the  shells  of  the  artillery  of 
Duke  Albrecht  of  Wiirtemberg  began  to  fall  in  the  streets,  at 
about  5  :oo  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  that  day.  During  the 
evening  the  enemy's  cavalry  entered  and  the  city  became  sub- 
ject to  the  usual  indignities  visited  upon  French  towns  by  the 
invaders,  including  the  detention  of  prominent  citizens  as  hos- 
tages. In  Vitry,  five  hostages  were  thus  seized  and  held,  among 
them  the  cure  and  the  curate  of  Notre  Dame  Church,  to  insure 
requisitions,  see  to  the  feeding  of  the  civil  population  and  to 
answer  with  their  lives  for  any  hostile  demonstration  on  the 
part  of  the  people. 

For  five  days  thereafter,  while  the  shell  fire  of  the  German 
batteries  to  the  north  and  those  of  the  French  to  the  south 
crossed  overhead  and  sometimes  sprayed  the  streets  with 
splintered  steel,  the  town  was  held  by  the  enemy.  The  hospi- 
tal, the  schools  and  churches,  and  the  large  building  of  the 
Savings  Bank  were  filled  with  German  wounded  to  the  num- 
ber of  nearly  2,500.  On  the  evening  of  the  tenth,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  defeat  of  their  armies  farther  to  the  west,  the 
Germans  retreated,  strangely  enough  leaving  the  place,  except 
for  the  effects  of  desultory  shelling,  unmarked  by  the  wanton 
destruction  which  left  the  hallmark  of  Prussian  kultur  upon 
most  of  the  French  towns  occupied  by  them. 

Since  for  many  leagues  in  our  progress  down  the  Marne 
we  shall  now  be  meeting  with  scenes  which  will  be  forever  in 
the  future  associated  with  the  battle  which,  up  to  the  time  of 
its  occurrence,  was  the  most  stupendous  in  all  the  history  of 


i62  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

humanity,  we  may  well  pause  at  Vitry-le-Frangois,  where  we 
have  first  encountered  evidences  of  that  struggle,  to  trace  the 
general  course  of  the  conflict  which  determined,  with  the  awful 
decisiveness  of  an  act  of  God,  that  the  structure  of  democratic 
institutions  and  the  fabric  of  Latin  and  Anglo-Saxon  civili- 
zation were  not  to  be  swept  away  by  the  first  overwhelming 
blow  aimed  at  them  by  their  enemies,  but  were  to  be  afforded 
time  to  organize  for  a  struggle  to  the  end  in  which  they  might 
assert  their  superior  strength  and  virtues  over  those  of  autoc- 
racy. Thus  only  may  the  reader  be  able  properly  to  focus, 
in  their  relation  to  the  whole,  the  significance  of  the  scenes  of 
local  events  as  they  occur  along  the  course  of  the  Marne ;  for, 
like  the  stones  of  a  mosaic  pavement,  such  events  were  but 
parts  of  the  great  pattern  of  destiny  which  men  now  call  the 
Battle  of  the  Marne. 

In  those  world-numbing  days  of  August,  19 14,  when  the 
German  armies  were  rolling  into  Belgium  and  northern 
France,  their  advance  may  be  appropriately  likened  to  the  slow 
opening  of  a  gigantic  door,  hinged  upon  the  fortress  of  Metz, 
whose  swinging  edge  moved  ever  across  Liege,  Brussels,  Mons, 
Cambrai,  and  Compiegne  in  the  direction  of  Paris.  With  the 
majestic  and  seemingly  irresistible  power  of  an  avalanche  the 
hosts  of  the  Teutonic  Empire  surged  onward,  here  pausing, 
as  at  Liege  and  Namur,  before  the  heroic  resistance  of  little 
Belgium,  and  again  struggling  hard  to  overcome  the  ardent, 
but  ill-timed,  counter-blows  of  the  French  at  Charleroi  or  the 
dogged  opposition  of  the  British  along  the  Mons  Canal,  but 
never  halting  completely.  By  September  i  they  had  overrun 
practically  all  the  smiling  country  lying  north  of  a  line  between 
Paris  and  Verdun,  the  inhabitants  fleeing  before  them  in 
mortal  terror.  The  Allied  armies,  suffering  under  the  neces- 
sity, inevitable  to  the  defense  in  such  a  situation,  of  fighting 


Vitry-le-Francois  and  the  First  Battle         163 


with  relatively  weak  forces  and  holding  back  their  mobile 
reserves  until  the  enemy  should  have  demonstrated  where  he 
intended  to  deliver  his  hardest  blow,  were  making  merely  a 
pugnacious  retreat,  inflicting  upon  the  Germans  as  much 
damage  as  possible,  but  not  yet  attempting  a  final  stand. 

But  French  leadership  had  long  foreseen  that  on  the  out- 
break of  war,  Germany  would  in  all  probability  perfidiously 
violate  the  neutrality  of  Belgium  for  the  sake  of  striking 
France  on  her  weakest  flank  and  had  made  preliminary  plans 
accordingly.  General  Joffre,  the  patient,  imperturbable,  far- 
seeing  Commander-in-Chief,  was  biding  his  time  for  a  maneu- 
ver and  a  battle  whose  possibilities,  in  such  circumstances  as 
were  now  shaping,  had  been  anticipated.  The  French  offensive 
in  Alsace  and  Lorraine,  undertaken  contrary  to  such  plans 
for  the  sake  of  its  political  effect  in  arousing  the  enthusiasm  of 
the  nation  for  the  redemption  of  "the  lost  provinces,"  had 
failed  miserably  in  the  latter  days  of  August,  as  the  wisest 
minds  in  the  councils  of  the  nation  had  feared  that  it  would 
fail,  and  the  energies  of  both  combatants  had  become  concen- 
trated on  the  battle  along  the  Paris- Verdun  front.  German 
forces  crossed  the  Marne  at  Mezy,  Chateau-Thierry,  Nogent, 
La  Ferte-sous-Jouarre,  and  Changis  on  September  3  and  4,  at 
Chalons  on  the  latter  date,  and  at  Vitry-le-Frangois  on  the 
fifth.  All  along  the  vast  front  of  225  kilometers,  the  Allied 
line  was  still  sagging  southward.  But  this  very  retiring  move- 
ment was  creating  the  situation  for  which  Joffre  was  playing. 

So  long  as  Verdun  and  Paris  held  firm  on  the  east  and  on 
the  west,  the  Germans  advancing  in  the  center  were  forcing 
themselves  more  and  more  deeply  into  a  salient  and  exposing 
their  flanks  to  turning  movements  from  one  or  the  other  of 
the  French  citadels.  In  short,  they  were  approaching  the 
Roman  position  at  Cannae,  the  classic  model  batfle  in  which 


164         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

Hannibal  overthrew  the  army  of  the  Roman  Republic  by  retir- 
ing his  center  and  then  closing  in  upon  the  enemy  with  his 
flanks.  But,  at  the  same  time,  this  situation  offered  a  brilliant 
opportunity  to  the  Germans  and  they  were  exerting  every 
effort  to  utilize  it.  Theirs  were  the  interior  lines  and,  presum- 
ably, the  superior  numbers.  If,  by  asserting  their  advantages, 
they  could  pierce  the  thinner,  sagging  Allied  line  at  some  point 
between  Paris  and  Verdun,  they  might  roll  back  one  segment 
of  the  forces  of  their  antagonists  upon  Paris  and  there  sur- 
round and  capture  it,  while  the  other  segment  would  be 
driven  upon  the  frontier  fortress  line  extending  from  Verdun 
southward,  there  to  be  similarly  crushed  in  detail.  The  ques- 
tion as  to  which  of  these  contrary  results  would  be  achieved, 
resolved  itself,  ultimately,  into  a  question  as  to  the  relative 
endurance  and  moral  stamina  of  the  opposing  Allied  and  Ger- 
man soldiers. 

On  September  4,  General  Joffre  decided  that  conditions 
had  become  as  favorable  as  they  ever  would  be  for  putting  his 
plans  into  execution  and  gave  orders  that  his  armies  come  to  a 
stand  and  prepare  to  assume  the  offensive  on  September  6.  At 
the  time,  the  Allied  order  of  battle  stood,  from  east  to  west, 
as  follows :  the  Third  Army,  under  General  Sarrail,  with  its 
right  flank  resting  on  Verdun  and  its  left  in  front  of  Bar-le- 
Duc,  holding  the  Pass  of  Revigny,  where  the  rivers  Ornain 
and  Saulx  flow  westward  to  join  the  Marne;  then  the  Fourth 
Army,  General  Langle  de  Gary,  standing  astride  the  Marne 
at  Vitry-le-Frangois  with  its  left  at  Sompuis;  then  the  Ninth 
Army,  General  Foch,  lying  south  of  the  Marches  of  St.  Gond 
with  its  left  north  of  Sezanne;  then  the  Fifth  Army,  General 
Franchet  d'Esperey,  extending  to  about  Courtacon,  north  of 
Provins;  then  the  British  Army  under  Field  Marshal  French, 
reaching  to  a  point  south  of  Meaux;    and  then,  lastly,  the 


Vitry-le-Franqois  and  the  First  Battle        165 

Sixth  Army,  General  Maunoury,  covering  Paris.  The  capital 
itself  was  under  the  direct  control  of  the  military  governor, 
General  Gallieni,  who  had  at  his  command  not  only  General 
Maunoury's  army  but  also  important  masses  of  troops  des- 
tined exclusively  for  the  defense  of  the  city;  all  subject,  of 
course,  to  the  supreme  authority  of  the  Commander-in-Chief. 
Of  the  armies  enumerated,  those  of  General  Foch  and  Gen- 
eral Maunoury  had  not  participated  in  the  retreat  but  had  been 
newly  constituted,  chiefly  from  reserves,  and  placed  in  line 
only  in  time  to  take  part  in  the  counter-offensive. 

Assailing  the  Allied  host  the  Germans  had,  approximately 
opposite  General  Sarrail,  their  Fifth  Army  under  the  Crown 
Prince  of  Germany;  in  front  of  Langle  de  Gary  the  Fourth 
Army  under  Duke  Albrecht  of  Wiirtemberg ;  opposite  to  Foch 
the  Third  Army  under  General  von  Hansen;  opposite  to 
D'Esperey  the  Second  Army  under  General  von  Biilow,  and 
opposite  to  the  British  Army  and  the  entrenched  camp  of 
Paris,  the  First  Army  under  General  von  Kliick. 

As  a  measure  of  safety,  the  seat  of  the  French  government 
had  been  removed  on  September  3  from  Paris  to  Bordeaux, 
but  any  elements  of  the  population  which  feared  that  this  pre- 
caution foreshadowed  the  military  evacuation  of  the  metropo- 
lis were  reassured  by  the  stirring  proclamation  of  General 
Gallieni,  who  announced :  "  I  have  received  orders  to  defend 
Paris  against  invasion.  I  shall  do  so  to  the  end."  Until  that 
day  it  was  popularly  believed  that  von  Kliick's  army,  on  the 
marching  flank  of  the  German  advance,  was  driving  forward 
with  the  intention  of  taking  Paris.  This  was  not  the  case.  No 
city,  however  important,  but  the  destruction  of  the  Allied 
armies  in  the  field,  was,  quite  properly,  the  primary  objective 
of  the  German  campaign,  for,  those  armies  once  disposed  of, 
everything  else  would  of  necessity  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 


l66        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

victors.  But  the  popular  illusion  was  dispelled  when  it  was 
learned  on  the  momentous  fourth  of  September,  anniversary 
of  the  fall,  in  1870,  of  the  Third  Empire  after  the  debacle  of 
Sedan,  that  von  Kliick's  columns,  ignoring  the  garrison  of 
Paris  as  being  too  conscious  of  its  defensive  role  to  initiate 
any  hostile  movements  and  believing  the  British  Army  to  be 
completely  exhausted  after  its  nerve-wracking  retreat  of  200 
kilometers  from  Mons,  had  deflected  to  the  southeastward 
from  their  direct  march  on  the  city  and  were  passing  parallel 
to  the  front  of  the  Allies  in  the  direction  of  Coulommiers,  on 
the  Grand  Morin  River.  The  German  intent  evidently  was  to 
carry  out  their  cherished  maneuver  by  piercing  the  Allied  line 
between  the  armies  of  French  and  D'Esperey  and  then  rolling 
the  former  back  upon  Paris  and  the  latter  upon  the  eastern 
frontier.  In  the  meantime,  all  the  other  German  armies  up 
to  Verdun  were  assailing  their  opponents  with  the  utmost 
vigor  possible. 

The  enemy  having  thus  disclosed  his  intentions  and 
launched  his  attack,  Joffre,  on  September  5,  prepared  the 
counter-stroke.  Relying  upon  the  staunchness  of  the  British 
as  well  as  of  D'Esperey's  troops  to  hold  their  ground  and  to 
advance  when  the  proper  time  should  arrive,  he  ordered  Gal- 
lieni  to  push  Maunoury's  Sixth  Army  northeastward  from 
Paris,  strike  von  Kliick's  right  flank,  which  was  defiling  along 
the  heights  west  of  the  Ourcq  and  turn  it  and  drive  it  back 
across  the  latter  river.  If  successful,  the  efifect  of  the  maneu- 
ver would  be,  after  von  Kliick  should  have  been  disposed  of,  to 
also  take  von  Biilow  and  von  Hansen  successively  in  flank  and 
rear  and  to  either  surround  them  or  force  them  to  retreat  pre- 
cipitately. As  a  corollary  to  Maunoury's  attack,  Sarrail  was 
ordered  to  assume  the  offensive  against  the  German  Crown 
Prince  and  drive  him  westward,  carrying  Wiirtemberg  with 


Vitry-le-Franqois  and  the  First  Battle        167 

him  into  a  cul-de-sac  back  to  back  with  the  armies  of  the  Ger- 
man right.  The  intervening  armies  were  instructed  Hkewise 
to  attack  energetically  and  under  no  circumstances  to  yield 
any  further  ground  to  the  enemy. 

Held  admirably  in  hand  during  their  long  and  difficult 
retreat,  the  armies  of  Jofifre  were  able  to  about-face  upon 
their  counter-attack  positions  in  the  best  of  order  and  spirit. 
On  the  morning  of  September  5,  General  Maunoury's  army  to 
the  number  of  eight  divisions  advanced  across  the  plateau 
north  of  Meaux  and  west  of  the  Ourcq  and  fell  upon  the  five 
German  divisions  of  von  Kluck's  right  flank,  which  were  quite 
unprepared  for  such  a  tremendous  onslaught.  In  desperate 
fighting  on  that  day  and  the  next,  Maunoury's  troops  slowly 
drove  the  enemy  back  across  the  broad,  open  fields  of  the 
Multien  district  and  through  the  crumbling  villages  of  Mon- 
thyon,  Neufmontiers,  Penchard,  Chambry,  Barcy,  and  Mar- 
cilly  until  the  Germans  were  clinging  precariously  to  the  edge 
of  the  hills  overlooking  the  Ourcq  and  the  Marne. 

Meantime,  ignorant  of  the  dangers  accumulating  behind 
them,  the  forward  echelons  of  von  Kliick's  army  were  march- 
ing confidently  across  the  front  of  the  British  toward  Courta- 
con  and  the  left  flank  of  D'Esperey,  not  doubting  that  they 
would  dislocate  the  junction  of  the  two  armies  by  a  powerful 
attack.  But  at  dawn  of  the  sixth,  Marshal  French's  five 
British  infantry  divisions  and  five  cavalry  brigades,  issued 
from  the  Forest  of  Crecy  behind  which  they  had  been  resting 
and  advanced  to  the  south  bank  of  the  Grand  Morin,  driving 
back  the  enemy's  covering  detachments  and  establishing  them- 
selves in  good  positions  for  the  furious  attack  which  they 
delivered  the  next  morning  upon  the  four  divisions  of  von 
Kliick's  advance.  That  day  saw  the  British,  at  the  cost  of 
savage  fighting,  drive  forward  all  along  their  front,  roundly 
12 


i68        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

defeating  the  German  cavalry,  while  deadly  British  artillery 
fire  littered  the  ground  with  the  debris  of  the  retreating  Ger- 
man batteries.  By  nightfall  they  had  crossed  the  Grand  Morin 
and  captured  Coulommiers,  thus  completely  baring  von 
Kliick's  flank  for  further  attack.  The  German  general,  who 
had  aroused  fully  to  the  menace  of  Maunoury's  attack  west  of 
the  Ourcq,  had  been  compelled  to  detach  against  it  an  entire 
corps  from  the  offensive  mass  with  which  he  had  designed  to 
crush  D'Esperey.  The  weakening  of  his  left  was  fatal. 
D'Esperey,  relieved  of  pressure,  was  able  on  the  seventh  to 
push  across  the  Grand  Morin  and  bring  his  front  up  in  line 
with  the  British.  In  their  left  center,  all  was  going  well  with 
the  Allies. 

On  the  front  of  Paris,  meantime,  Gallieni  was  taking  radi- 
cal measures.  Perceiving  that  Maunoury,  despite  his  utmost 
efforts,  was  not  progressing  as  fast  as  was  desirable,  nor 
accomplishing  the  envelopment  of  the  German  flank,  he 
detached  a  division  from  the  garrison  of  Paris  to  aid  him. 
On  the  night  of  September  7-8,  requisitioning  taxicabs  on  the 
streets  of  Paris  to  the  number  of  not  less  than  t,ioo,  he  had 
the  troops  loaded  into  them  and  sent,  at  almost  express-train 
speed,  to  Maunoury's  left  flank  to  extend  it  for  the  enveloping 
movement.  Von  Kliick's  timely  steps  for  reinforcing  his 
own  flank,  however,  unfortunately  neutralized  the  effect  of 
this  expedient  and  during  September  8,  the  French  found 
themselves  compelled  to  fight  hard  to  escape  being  them- 
selves enveloped. 

While,  on  the  seventh  and  eighth,  the  armies  of  the  Allied 
left  were,  on  the  whole,  fighting  victoriously  and  gradually 
hemming  von  Kliick  into  a  narrowing  salient,  the  armies  of 
the  center  and  right,  far  from  being  able  to  advance,  were 
having  a  terrible  struggle  to  save  themselves  from  destruc- 


Vitry-le-Franqois  and  the  First  Battle         169 

tion.  The  German  high  command,  reaHzing  that  the  Anglo- 
French  counter-offensive  in  front  of  Paris  might  defeat  them 
entirely,  ordered  their  other  armies  as  far  as  Verdun  to  drive 
in  with  all  their  power  and  break  through  the  lines  of  their 
opponents  at  any  cost.  During  September  7,  von  Biilow  par- 
ticularly concentrated  his  efforts  on  piercing  the  French  line 
between  D'Esperey  and  Foch  while  Wiirtemberg  and  the 
Crown  Prince  cooperated  in  a  similar  effort  to  carry  the  Pass 
of  Revigny,  hoping  there  to  separate  Langle  de  Gary  from 
Sarrail.  Their  efforts  were  unsuccessful,  either  on  that  day 
or  the  next.  But  the  French,  reeling  under  the  blows  rained 
upon  them,  were  forced  back  slightly  at  nearly  all  points 
while  Foch,  who  was  sustaining  the  most  furious  attacks 
from  a  large  part  of  von  Biilow's  army  and  the  whole  of 
von  Hansen's,  was  driven  entirely  from  the  Marches  of  St. 
Gond  and  found  himself  in  a  situation  in  which  any  gen- 
eral less  nobly  endowed  with  moral  fortitude  and  martial 
insight  would  have  yielded  to  defeat.  But  not  so  with  Foch. 
He  clearly  perceived  that  the  violent  efforts  of  the  Germans  in 
the  center  were  dictated  by  the  extreme  peril  of  their  right  and, 
knowing  that  assuredly  their  troops  could  be  little  less  ex- 
hausted and  in  little  better  heart  than  his  own,  he  held  his 
men  firm  and  at  the  end  of  the  day  pronounced  the  situation 
"  excellent,"  despite  the  fact  that  the  whole  Allied  line  from 
Verdun  to  Sezanne  was  trembling  and  seemed  on  the  verge 
of  breaking. 

At  Marathon  and  Chalons  and  Tours  there  were  days  of 
destiny.  Days  when  it  seemed  that  an  overruling  Providence, 
intervening  only  when  the  very  fate  of  humanity  was  in  the 
balance,  gave  to  the  forces  representing  the  true  progress  of 
mankind  the  slight  added  impulsion  necessary  to  determine 
that  neither  Persian  nor  Saracen  nor  Hun  should  dominate  the 


170        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

future  of  Europe.  Such  another  day  came  in  the  Battle  of 
the  Marne  the  ninth  of  September.  Von  Kliick,  having 
already  decided,  though  unknown  to  his  opponents,  that  his 
position  between  Maunoury  and  the  British,  already  descend- 
ing upon  the  Marne  from  Changis  to  Chateau-Thierry,  was 
quite  hopeless,  had  begun  his  retreat  northeast,  toward  Sois- 
sons.  To  cover  the  movement  he  withdrew  yet  another  corps 
from  his  left  and  hurled  it  upon  Maunoury's  exposed  flank. 
The  latter  was  bent  back  and  ever  back  among  the  uplands 
about  Nanteuil-le-Haudouin  until  it  seemed  that  it  must  give 
way  entirely  and  be  driven  in  rout  upon  Paris.  But  still, 
hour  after  hour,  it  held. 

That  day,  on  the  center  and  right,  the  situation  of  the 
French  was  even  more  desperate,  if  possible,  than  it  was  on 
their  left.  South  of  the  Marches  of  St.  Gond  the  troops  of 
Foch's  Ninth  Army  were  forced  back  to  the  line  of  heights 
extending  southeast  from  Soizy  to  Linthes,  which  marks  the 
watershed  between  the  valleys  of  the  Petit  Morin  and  the 
Aube.  All  day  they  strove  intensely  to  save  themselves  from 
being  pushed  off  the  heights  to  the  southward  descending 
slopes  by  von  Hansen  and  the  left  of  von  Biilow;  an  event 
which,  had  it  occurred,  would  have  resulted  inevitably  in  the 
breaking  of  the  line.  Despite  the  fact  that  von  Billow's  right, 
exposed  by  the  withdrawal  of  von  Kliick,  was  now  being  rap- 
idly pushed  back  upon  the  Marne  by  D'Esperey,  the  last 
mighty  efforts  of  the  Germans  to  retrieve  themselves  from  dis- 
aster by  disrupting  the  Allied  center  would  probably  have 
been  crowned  with  success  had  it  not  been  for  the  heroic  devo- 
tion of  one  French  division  under  the  stress  of  numbing 
fatigue  and  heavy  losses. 

This  division  was  the  Forty-second,  under  General  Gros- 
setti.     For  four  days  it  had  fought  continuously  on  Foch's 


Vitry-le-Franqois  and  the  First  Battle         171 


left,  along  the  hills  just  west  of  the  Marches  of  St.  Gond, 
maintaining  liaison,  against  the  repeated  assaults  of  von  Bil- 
low, with  the  neighboring  flank  of  D'Esperey.  Reduced  to  lit- 
tle more  than  a  skeleton  by  its  losses,  it  was  relieved  on  the 
morning  of  the  ninth  by  one  of  D'Esperey's  divisions  and 
retired  for  the  rest  which  it  had  richly  earned.  Then  came 
the  shattering  attacks  farther  to  the  right  on  the  line  from 
Allemont  through  Mont  Chalmont  to  Linthes,  which  General 
Humbert's  Moroccan  Division,  stubbornly  contesting  every 
inch  of  ground,  was  barely  able  to  sustain.  Immediately  to 
the  right  of  the  Moroccans,  the  French,  gave  ground  and 
from  I  :oo  o'clock  to  3  :oo  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  Ger- 
mans were  within  a  hair's-breadth  of  pushing  through  into  the 
plain  of  the  Aube,  whence  they  would  have  swept  the  Moroc- 
cans from  the  reverse  slopes,  split  Foch's  army  in  twain,  and 
probably  brought  about  a  complete  defeat  for  the  Allies. 

But  Foch  had  one  card  left  to  play.  He  sent  orders  to 
Grossetti's  retiring  division  to  return  to  the  battle  and  attack 
the  enemy  between  Linthes  and  the  village  south  of  it,  Pleurs. 
Gathering  themselves  together  with  superb  spirit  to  obey  the 
unexpected  order,  these  men  took  up  their  march  behind  the 
battle  line  and  at  4:00  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  with  waves 
thinned  but  animated  to  a  superhuman  effort,  they  burst  upon 
the  dismayed  Germans  north  of  Pleurs.  It  was  the  weakest 
spot  in  the  enemy's  line,  the  junction  point  between  the  armies 
of  von  Billow  and  von  Hausen.  Their  troops  were  expending 
the  last  ounce  of  their  strength  to  win  through  to  the  Aube 
Plain  and  they  had  no  reserves  left  with  which  to  meet  Gros- 
setti's stroke.  The  result  was  hardly  for  a  moment  in  doubt. 
Utterly  discouraged,  the  Germans  broke  back  toward  the 
marshes  before  Grossetti's  attack,  which  was  rapidly  extended 
toward  Mont  Chalmont  and  Allemont  by  the  now  exultant 


172         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

Moroccans.  Thereupon  the  German  high  command,  seeing 
the  long  struggle  at  last  irretrievably  lost,  issued  their  orders 
for  a  general  retreat.  By  such  a  narrow  margin  may  a  battle 
involving  even  millions  of  men  be  lost  or  won.  That  night 
Foch's  pursuing  troops  gathered  in  many  prisoners  and 
guns  along  the  obscure  roads  which  thread  the  Marches 
of  St.  Gond,  while  farther  to  the  right  Langle  de  Gary  and 
Sarrail,  who  had  been  hard  beset  to  hold  their  ground  during 
the  last  few  days  of  the  battle,  pressed  hotly  after  the  with- 
drawing columns  of  Wiirtemberg  and  the  Grown  Prince. 

The  great  battle  was  over  and  France,  the  whole  Allied 
cause,  were,  for  the  time  being,  saved.  Retreating  far  to  the 
north  of  the  Marne,  the  Germans  made  no  attempt  to  halt 
until  the  thirteenth  of  September,  when  they  stopped  and 
established  themselves  on  the  line  extending  north  of  Soissons 
and  Reims  through  the  center  of  the  Argonne  and  north  of 
Verdun  which  thereafter  became  the  intrenched,  stabilized 
front  of  the  four  ensuing  years  of  the  war. 

Behind  them  the  invaders  left  a  country  for  the  most  part 
ravaged  and  desolated,  not  alone  by  the  inevitable  destructive- 
ness  of  modern  battle  but,  also,  too  often,  by  the  hand  of  wan- 
ton and  brutal  vandalism.  It  is  not  the  purpose  of  the  present 
writer  to  dwell  upon  the  distressing  ruin  visited  upon  the  ven- 
erable cities,  the  sequestered  villages,  and  the  charming  coun- 
trysides of  northern  France  during  the  World  War,  nor  to 
marshal  the  ghastly  array  of  acts  of  inhuman  cruelty,  almost 
countless  in  number,  to  which  its  unfortunate  inhabitants  were 
subjected  by  the  invaders,  especially  during  the  early  months 
of  the  conflict.  But  it  will  be  the  part  of  merely  elemental 
truth  and  justice  to  mention,  in  passing,  a  few  of  the  cases 
which  will  fall  directly  under  our  eyes  as  we  pursue  our  way 
down  the  Marne,  the  river  which,  though  it  saw  little  of  the 


Vitry-le-Francois  and  the  First  Battle         173 

crucial  fighting  in  that  never-to-be-forgotten  September  of 
19 14,  yet  flowed  through  the  center  of  the  farflung  battle- 
fields and  witnessed  a  small  percentage  of  the  deeds  of  the 
enemy  as  it  flowed  on  its  placid  way  toward  the  sea. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  CHAMPAGNE  POUILLEUSE 

THAT  rather  vaguely  defined  district  of  old  Champagne 
which,  extending  northeast,  roughly,  from  Troyes  to  Ste. 
Menehould,  at  the  foot  of  the  Argonne  Forest,  is  known  as  the 
Champagne  Pouilleuse,  has  probably  seldom  been  better  pic- 
tured in  few  words  than  by  M.  Ardouin-Dumazet  in  his  Voy- 
age en  France,  volume  21.     Therein  he  writes: 

If  one  find  a  point  sufficiently  elevated  to  overlook  the  details  of 
the  country,  he  will  be  able  to  comprehend  with  one  sweep  of  the 
eye  the  characteristics  of  the  region.  At  the  edge  of  a  horizon 
almost  circular,  one  traces  the  soft  undulations  of  the  woodlands 
of  little  pines  which  become  almost  forests  on  the  most  elevated 
places.  Between  these  distant  woods  are  spread  the  white  savarts, 
the  clouds  of  heavy  dust  revealing  the  passage  of  sheep  herds  which 
seek  pasturage  in  the  arid  lands.  On  the  borders  of  the  villages,  the 
pine  plantations  extend  in  long,  low  masses,  regular  in  form,  planted 
upon  the  triaux,  or  fallow  lands  which  are  put  under  cultivation  only 
at  long  intervals  and  which  furnish  to  the  sheep  valuable  resources 
when  the  savarts  will  no  longer  yield  a  blade  of  grass.  Nearer  still 
are  the  permanent  fields,  the  sombre;  a  picturesque  and  striking  word 
for  denoting  the  contrast  with  the  white  earth  of  the  triaux  and  the 
savarts.  There,  thanks  to  fertilization,  Champagne  has  been  trans- 
formed. The  cereals  —  rye,  barley,  oats,  wheat,  and  buckwheat, 
flourish  there;  clover,  alfalfa,  and  sainfoin  furnish  nearly  all  that  is 
necessary  for  raising  large  numbers  of  cattle. 

Such  progress  is  the  work  of  the  nineteenth  century;  indeed,  of 
the  last  fifty  years  of  it.  When  the  Allies  struggled  in  these  plains 
against  Napoleon,  the  Pomeranian  grenadiers  and  the  Cossacks  could 
well  believe  themselves  still  in  their  own  sterile  native  countries. 
The  waste  extended  almost  illimitable,  destitute  of  pine  trees,  and 
with  but  here  and  there  a  juniper  or  stunted  willow.  Around  the 
villages  the  straw  of  the  meager  rye  fields  was  the  only  fuel  known. 
There  were  few  if  any  cattle,  save  in  the  moist  grounds  of  the  nar- 
row valleys.    Nevertheless,  the  chalk  does  not  lack  fertility ;  wherever 


The   Champagne  Pouilleuse  175 

it  has  been  possible  to  improve  it  with  marl  and  some   fertilizer  it 
produces  excellent  harvests. 

Reforestation  has  transformed  everything.  The  pines  have  pro- 
duced fuel  and  permitted  the  straw  to  be  utilized  for  its  customary 
purposes  as  litter  and  fertilizer.  They  have  modified  the  climate  and 
reduced  the  temperature.  Less  widely  known  than  the  transformation 
of  the  Landes,  the  Sologne,  or  the  Dombes,  the  conquest  of  the  Cham- 
pagne Pouilleuse  is,  none  the  less,  one  of  the  works  most  creditable 
to  the  patient  industry  of  our  race. 

This  description  of  the  Champagne  Pouilleuse  applies  not 
only  to  the  broad  section  of  it  south  of  the  Marne  and  to  that 
great  sweep  north  of  the  river,  extending  from  Reims  to  the 
Argonne,  which  was  so  sadly  devastated  between  1914  and 
1918,  but  to  the  wide,  shallow  valley  of  the  river  itself,  passing 
through  the  very  heart  of  the  region  and  constituting  its  prin- 
cipal watercourse.  Although  the  country  is  barren  it  has 
attractions  of  its  own.  Some  of  the  villages,  commonplace 
enough  in  themselves,  which  are  scattered  along  the  river 
between  Vitry  and  Chalons  —  places  such  as  Loisy,  Songy, 
and  La  Chaussee ;  Vitry-la-Ville,  Omey,  Vesigneul,  Sarry,  and 
Compertrix,  possess  parish  churches  or  other  archaic  objects 
of  more  than  passing  interest. 

The  church  at  Loisy-sur-Marne  is  a  particularly  attractive 
thirteenth-century  structure,  while  the  one  of  the  same  period 
at  Compertrix  is  jeweled  with  a  noble  stained-glass  window 
more  than  six  hundred  years  old,  representing  Christ  upon 
the  cross  and  possesses,  besides,  two  medallions  of  the  six- 
teenth century  showing  St.  Louis  with  St.  John  the  Baptist. 
The  church  of  Sarry  cherishes  a  finely  carved  altar  chair  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  a  carved  panel  of  the  Flemish  school 
depicting  the  Annunciation,  a  sixteenth-century  equestrian 
statue  of  St.  Julian  in  carved  wood  and  also  carved  altar 
brackets  and  wainscotting  of  later  date.     At  Vitry-la-Ville 


ij6         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

there  is  a  fine  chateau  of  the  eighteenth  century  and  at  Chep- 
pes  the  remains  of  a  Roman  camp  which  is  often  pointed  out, 
though  erroneously,  as  a  camp  of  Attila's  army. 

None  of  these  villages  are  of  more  than  local  importance 
but,  having  ample  building  space,  they  ramble  carelessly  over 
the  valley  grounds,  their  houses,  which  are  sometimes  of  stone 
and  sometimes  of  plaster  and  timber,  hidden  away  in  gardens 
where  flourish  apple  and  plum,  pear  and  cherry  trees,  and 
where  grape-  and  peavines  clamber  over  walls  and  trellised 
summer  houses.  Precisely  such  cottonwood  trees  as  abound 
in  the  American  West  are  everywhere  in  the  villages,  but  the 
distant,  low  hills  show  always  the  dark,  narrow  ribbons  of  the 
pine  plantations  against  the  wastes  of  white  chalk.  Since  the 
chalk  beds  underlying  the  Champagne  Pouilleuse,  so  scientists 
tell  us,  extend  to  a  depth  of  1,300  feet,  the  only  salvation  for 
agriculture  lies  in  the  creation  of  a  thin  top  layer  of  vegetable 
humus  by  the  slow  process  of  pine  planting  and  the  syste- 
matic application  of  fertilizers.  The  greatest  disaster  which 
befell  the  northern  part  of  this  country  during  the  late  war 
was  not  the  destruction  of  the  towns,  for  these  can  be  rebuilt; 
but  when,  over  many  thousands  of  acres,  the  chalk  subsoil 
was  thrown  to  the  surface  by  intrenching  tools  and  the  explo- 
sion of  millions  of  shells,  an  injury  was  inflicted  upon  the 
land  which  can  only  be  repaired  by  the  labor  of  generations. 

The  Champagne  Pouilleuse  might  be  appropriately  desig- 
nated the  land  of  somnies;  a  word  of  provincial  origin  mean- 
ing "springs."  In  the  names  of  places  on  the  high  plateaus 
where  many  of  the  brooks  and  little  rivers  of  the  region  come 
into  being  the  word  frequently  occurs  in  compounds  such  as 
Sompuis  or  Sommesous  and,  north  of  the  Marne,  in  the  names 
of  some  of  the  shattered  towns  which  became  so  very  familiar 
to  many  Americans  during  the  battle  summer  and  autumn  of 


The  Champagne  Pouilleuse  177 

1918;  Sommepy,  Somme-Vesle,  Somme-Tourbe,  and  Somme- 
Suippe. 

Depressing,  if  not  positively  melancholy,  is  the  general 
aspect  of  this  land,  beyond  the  zone  of  the  ever-umbrageous 
Marne  Valley.  The  bulk  of  the  immense,  pallid  hills,  swollen 
gradually  up  like  rollers  of  a  petrified  ocean,  stand  limned 
against  a  horizon  whose  cheerful  azure  seems  stricken,  also, 
with  a  pallor  of  the  chalk,  its  jaundiced  whiteness  but  accen- 
tuated by  the  straight,  dark  belts  of  small  pines.  Along  the 
broad  intrenched  belt  of  the  Western  Front,  when  it  had  been 
deserted  by  the  armies  just  before  the  armistice,  the  country 
was  a  hades  worthy  of  the  descriptive  pen  of  Dante.  There 
ran  in  every  direction  and  to  the  limit  of  vision  the  zigzag 
gashes  of  trench  lines,  seaming  the  hills  with  white  pencilings, 
burrowing  snakelike  into  the  hollows,  fanged  with  wide  mats 
of  rusty  barbed  wire,  and  broken  at  close  intervals  by  pustu- 
lous dugouts  in  whose  gaping  mouths  flapped  the  rags  of  old 
blankets,  emphasizing  the  new  and  utter  desolation  of  a  region 
so  lately  peopled  by  tens  of  thousands  of  toiling,  struggling 
men.  Fluttering  camouflage  nets  along  the  roadsides,  heaps 
of  tin  cans,  deserted  ammunition  dumps  on  bypaths  whose 
dust  still  showed  the  tracks  of  the  camions  and  countless  thou- 
sands of  shell  holes,  many  of  them  littered  with  the  bones  of 
men  or  animals  exhumed  by  the  explosion,  confused  the  land- 
scape, upon  which  the  ghastly  ruins  of  martyred  villages,  heav- 
ing up  at  wide  intervals  across  the  distant  plain,  painted  the 
final  splotch  of  horror  to  give  character  to  a  land  whose  long 
agony  seemed  the  handiwork  of  Satan. 

Owing  to  the  open  character  of  the  country  and  to  the 
fact  that  the  parallel  valleys  of  the  Aisne,  the  Vesle,  the 
Marne,  the  Aube,  and  the  Seine,  intersecting  it,  lead  directly 
into  Western  France,  the  Champagne  Pouilleuse  is  crossed 


178         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

by  the  chief  thoroughfares  connecting  Paris  with  the  Rhine; 
not  alone  the  railroads  and  highways  but  the  canals  as  well, 
notably  the  Rhine-Marne  Canal.  The  currents  of  human 
activity  flowing  through  it  have  tended  to  make  the  country 
a  battle  ground  through  the  centuries,  and  one  admirably 
adapted  to  the  maneuvering  of  armies.  From  the  times  when 
the  Gallic  tribes  fought  for  their  independence  against  Julius 
Caesar,  through  the  barbaric  invasions  of  the  latter  days  of 
the  Roman  Empire,  the  Hundred  Years'  War  and  the  wars  of 
religion,  great  conflicts  have  occurred  here  at  frequent  inter- 
vals. On  the  eastern  confines  of  the  district,  not  35  kilome- 
ters from  Chalons-sur-Marne,  behind  those  passes  of  the  Ar- 
gonne  which  Dumouriez  denominated  "the  Thermopylae  of 
France,"  the  French  Revolution  was  saved  from  destruction 
at  the  hands  of  the  Prussians  in  the  Battle  of  Valmy,  Septem- 
ber 20,  1792.  In  the  region  between  Vitry  and  Chateau- 
Thierry,  Troyes  and  Laon,  Napoleon  fought  out  the  campaign 
of  1814  against  confederated  Europe. 

But  as  we  approach  Chalons  along  the  banks  of  the  Marne, 
the  very  artery  of  the  Champagne  Pouilleuse,  a  name  and  the 
echoes  of  a  tradition  as  strange  and  terrible  as  those  of  the 
stern  old  northern  mythologies  awaken  in  the  mind.  The 
name,  indeed,  is  one  which  contributed  not  a  little  to  those 
mythologies  for  it  is  that  of  Attila  the  Hun,  "  The  Scourge  of 
God;"  and  the  echoes  are  those  of  the  true  "first  Battle  of 
the  Marne,"  fought  nearly  fifteen  centuries  ago  in  the  portion 
of  the  chalk  plains  still  called  the  Catalaunian  Fields,  which 
extend  northeastward  from  Chalons  toward  Valmy.  There 
nascent  France  was  rescued  from  barbarism  to  become  a  chief 
jewel  of  modern  civilization  and  there  was  established  for  Ger- 
many and  her  kin  the  ill  omen  of  Chalons,  standing  like  a 
watch  tower  by  the  Marne,  the  verdure-walled  moat  of  the 


The  Champagne  Pouilleuse  179 

inner  citadel  of  France.  Northeast  and  north  of  Chalons  by 
the  best  of  roads,  lie,  at  14  kilometers,  the  Camp  of  Attila, 
where  the  great  Hun  came  to  bay  after  his  terrible  defeat  on 
the  Catalaunian  Fields;  at  35  kilometers,  Valmy,  where  autoc- 
racy failed  to  quench  the  newly  lighted  torch  of  democracy  in 
Europe ;  at  30  kilometers,  Auberive,  Souain,  and  Perthes-les- 
Hurlus,  the  nearest  points  of  the  Western  Front  of  the  World 
War,  where  Americans  of  the  Forty-second  Division  shared 
honors  with  their  French  comrades  in  repulsing  the  last  des- 
perate offensive  of  the  latter-day  Huns,  and  at  40  kilometers, 
Medeah  Farm  and  Blanc  Mont  and  St.  Etienne-a-Arnes, 
where  still  other  Americans,  of  the  Second  Division,  helped  to 
tear  loose  that  enemy's  hands  from  their  last  hold  on  the  in- 
trenched lines  before  Reims  and  to  hurl  him  back  into  open 
country.  But,  interesting  though  all  of  these  places  must 
henceforth  be  to  Americans,  the  stories  of  none  of  them  prop- 
erly enter  into  a  narrative  of  the  Marne  save  that  of  the  field 
of  the  contest  between  Attila's  army  and  that  of  the  Gallo- 
Romans.  This  epoch-marking  struggle  we  will  touch  upon 
more  fully  after  looking  about  Chalons. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
chAlons,  keeper  of  the  mighty  legend 

ENTERED  through  Compertrix  and  the  Faubourg  de 
Marne,  on  the  west  side  of  the  river,  the  venerable  city 
which  the  Romans  knew  as  Catalaunum  gives,  owing  to  its 
flatness,  a  first  impression  of  monotony.  This  is,  however, 
somewhat  reHeved  by  the  overtowering  dimensions  of  the  sev- 
eral churches  which  have  made  Chalons  renowned  for  its 
ecclesiastical  architecture.  The  more  modern  quarter  west  of 
the  river,  where  the  railroad  yards  are  located,  is  given  over 
to  factories  and  particularly  to  breweries  and  champagne  cel- 
lars and  possesses  few  of  the  old  landmarks  save  the  remark- 
able former  Manor  of  Jacquesson,  with  its  two  towers.  This 
stately  edifice  is  now  used  as  a  brewery  and  distillery  and  has 
connected  with  it  no  less  than  7  miles  of  cellarage,  hewn  in 
the  underlying  chalk  rock.  Although  the  great  center  of  the 
champagne  industry,  exceeding  even  Reims  in  importance,  is 
at  Epernay,  some  35  kilometers  west  of  Chalons,  the  wine 
trade  of  the  latter  is  one  of  its  most  important  activities  and 
gives  work  to  a  considerable  proportion  of  its  32,000  inhabi- 
tants. 

Chalons,  both  in  population  and  volume  of  commerce,  is 
easily  the  most  important  city  lying  directly  on  the  Marne 
and  it  is,  moreover,  the  chef-lieu,  or  capital,  of  the  Depart- 
ment of  the  Marne  and  a  chief  military  center  of  France,  con- 
taining the  headquarters  of  the  Sixth  Corps  and  immense  bar- 
racks for  troops  in  the  northeastern  faubourgs.  The  Marne 
itself,  viewed  from  the  handsome  Eighteenth-century  bridge 
spanning  it  opposite  to  the  center  of  the  city,  with  its  low 
banks  and  fringes  of  small  trees  and  brush,  has  a  common- 

180 


Chalons,  Keeper  of  the  Mighty  Legend       i8l 

place  appearance  most  unusual  to  the  river  of  a  thousand 
charming  phases,  though  perhaps  its  very  homeliness  at  Chal- 
ons may  be  counted,  by  contrast,  as  one  of  its  charms.  But 
the  city  which  in  the  days  of  its  greatest  prosperity  boasted  a 
population  twice  as  numerous  as  that  of  today;  which  twice 
during  the  Hundred  Years'  War,  in  1430  and  in  1434,  repulsed 
the  English  invaders,  and  which  was  marvelously  embellished 
with  public  works  and  buildings  under  the  favor  of  King 
Henry  iv  and  his  successors  of  the  sixteenth  century,  belies 
its  poor  promise  as  the  visitor  proceeds  by  the  broad  Rue  de 
Marne  past  the  imposing  bulk  of  the  City  Hospital  and  the 
Cathedral  of  St.  Etienne  to  the  Place  de  Ville  and  the  center 
of  the  city. 

The  Place  de  Ville,  today  still  literally,  though  not  practi- 
cally, the  heart  of  the  city,  is  probably  the  same  place  in  which 
the  men  of  Chalons  gathered  to  resist  the  attack  of  the  Eng- 
lish and  the  Navarrois  one  dark  night  in  1359;  an  affair  of 
which  Froissart  gave  such  a  lively  description  in  his  Chronicles 
that  it  is  worth  quoting  as  a  picture  both  of  the  manner  of 
fighting  in  those  long-ago  days  of  the  Hundred  Years'  War 
and  of  the  stoutness  of  heart  which  the  burghers  of  Chalons, 
like  those  of  other  French  towns,  had  to  possess  in  order  to 
preserve  their  independence.     Froissart  wrote : 

It  happened  that  while  Sir  Peter  Audley  was  governor  of  Beau- 
fort (the  English  governor,  the  chronicler  means),  which  is  situated 
between  Troyes  and  Chalons,  he  imagined  that  if  he  could  cross  the 
Marne  above  the  town  of  Chalons  and  advance  by  the  side  of  the 
monastery  of  St.  Peter,  he  might  easily  take  the  town.  To  carry 
the  scheme  into  effect  he  waited  until  the  River  Marne  was  low, 
when  he  secretly  assembled  his  companions  from  five  or  six  strong 
castles  he  was  master  of  in  that  neighborhood.  His  army  consisted 
of  about  four  hundred  combatants.  They  set  out  from  Beaufort  at 
midnight.  He  led  them  to  a  ford  of  the  River  Marne,  which  he 
intended  to  cross,  for  he  had  people  of  the  country  as  guides.     On 


182         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

coming  thither,  he  made  them  all  to  dismount  and  give  their  horses 
to  the  servants,  when  he  marched  them  through  the  river,  which 
was  low.  All  having  crossed,  he  led  them  slowly  toward  the  mon- 
astery of  St.  Peter.  There  were  many  guards  and  watchmen  scat- 
tered over  the  town  of  Chalons,  and  in  the  public  squares;  those 
who  were  nearest  to  the  monastery  of  St.  Peter,  which  is  situated 
above  the  town,  heard  very  distinctly  the  noise  of  the  Navarrois, 
for,  as  they  were  advancing,  their  arms,  by  touching  each  other,  made 
a  noise  and  sounded.  Many  who  heard  this  wondered  what  it  could 
be;  for  all  at  once,  Sir  Peter  having  halted,  the  noise  ceased,  and 
when  he  continued  his  march  the  same  sounds  were  again  heard  by 
the  sentinels  posted  in  St.  Peter's  street,  as  the  wind  came  from  the 
opposite  quarter.  And  some  among  them  said,  "It  must  be  those 
English  and  Navarrois  thieves  advancing  to  take  us  by  escalade; 
let  us  immediately  sound  the  alarm  and  awaken  our  fellow-citizens." 
Some  of  them  went  to  the  monastery,  to  see  what  it  might  be.  They 
could  not,  however,  make  such  speed  but  that  Sir  Peter  and  his  army 
were  in  the  courtyard;  for  the  walls  in  that  part  were  not  four  feet 
high ;  and  they  immediately  rushed  through  the  gate  of  the  monastery 
into  the  street,  which  was  large  and  wide.  The  citizens  were  exceed- 
ingly alarmed,  because  there  arose  cries  from  all  parts  of,  "  Treason ! 
Treason !  To  arms  !  To  arms  !  "  They  armed  themselves  in  haste 
and,  collecting  in  a  body  to  be  stronger,  advanced  to  meet  their 
enemies,  who  overthrew  and  killed  the  foremost  of  them. 

It  happened,  very  unfortunately  for  Chalons,  that  Peter  de  Chalons, 
who  had  been  governor  of  the  city  upward  of  a  year,  with  a  hundred 
lances  under  his  command  had  lately  left  it,  on  account  of  not  being 
able  to  get  paid  according  to  their  wishes.  The  commonalty  of  the 
city  were  numerous  and  set  themselves  in  earnest  to  make  a  good 
defense.  It  was  high  time ;  but  they  suffered  much  and  the  Navarrois 
conquered  all  the  lower  town,  as  far  as  the  bridges  over  the  Marne. 
Beyond  the  bridges  the  citizens  collected  themselves  and  defended 
the  first  bridge,  which  was  of  great  service  to  them.  The  skirmish 
was  there  very  sharp ;  the  Navarrois  attacked  and  fought  well.  Some 
of  the  English  archers  advanced  and,  passing  over  the  supports  of 
the  bridge,  shot  so  well  and  so  continually  that  none  from  Chalons 
dared  to  come  within  reach  of  their  arrows. 

This  engagement  lasted  until  midday.  It  was  said  by  some  that 
Chalons  must  have  been  taken  if  Sir  Odes  de  Grancy  had  not  learnt, 
as  it  were  by  inspiration,  this  incursion  of  the  Navarrois.  In  order 
to  defeat  it  he  had  entreated  the  assistance  of  many  knights  and 
squires,  for  he  knew  that  there  was  not  one  gentleman  in  Chalons. 


-A. 


//. 


^/t-^^-^, 


'^-' 


.:^J' 


^W*..     A-.lft 


The  Cathedral  of  St.  Etienne  at   Chalons 


{Page  181] 


Chalons,  Keeper  of  the  Mighty  Legend       183 

III  '  ^^^^'^T'^^™™  '      '  '  '  ^^i^-^  I  III     — ^^^^^w^—  I  .  ■    I  — ■  in    ■     —  ■  II.  I  ■ 

He  had  come,  therefore,  day  and  night,  attended  by  Sir  Philip  de 
Jancourt,  the  Lord  Anceau  de  Beaupre,  the  Lord  John  de  Guermillon, 
and  many  others  to  the  amount  of  sixty  lances.  As  soon  as  they 
were  come  to  Chalons  they  advanced  toward  the  bridge,  which  the 
inhabitants  were  defending  against  the  Navarrois,  who  were  exerting 
themselves  to  the  utmost  to  gain  it.  The  Lord  de  Grancy  displayed 
his  banner  and  fell  upon  the  Navarrois  with  a  hearty  good  will.  The 
arrival  of  the  Lord  de  Grancy  mightily  rejoiced  the  people  of  Chalons ; 
and  well  it  might,  for  without  him  and  his  company  they  v/ould  have 
been  hard  driven.  When  Sir  Peter  Audley  and  his  friends  saw  these 
Burgundians  they  retreated  in  good  order  the  way  they  had  come, 
and  found  their  servants  with  their  horses  on  the  banks  of  the  Marne. 
They  mounted  them  and,  crossing  the  river  without  molestation, 
returned  toward  Beaufort,  having  by  a  trifle  missed  their  aim.  The 
inhabitants  of  Chalons  were  much  pleased  at  their  departure  and  gave 
thanks  to  God  for  it.  After  expressing  their  obligations  to  the  Lord 
de  Grancy  for  the  kindness  he  had  done  them,  they  presented  him 
with  five  hundred  livres  for  himself  and  his  people.  They  entreated 
the  Lord  John  de  Besars,  who  was  present  and  a  near  neighbor,  to 
remain,  to  advise  and  assist  them.  He  consented  to  their  request,  for 
the  handsome  salary  they  allowed  him,  and  set  about  fortifying  the 
city  in  those  places  which  were  the  weakest. 

It  is  evident  that  in  those  days  the  nobility  were  no  more 
averse  to  turning  an  honest  penny  in  the  name  of  patriotism 
than  are  the  war  profiteers  of  the  present. 

No  vestige  survives  in  the  Place  de  Ville  of  the  buildings 
which  the  Lord  de  Grancy  and  Sir  Peter  Audley  knew  there 
but  many  historic  structures  of  later  date  are  still  extant, 
lending  dignity  to  the  thoroughfares,  while  the  stamp  of  mil- 
itary character  is  still  upon  the  city  in  the  sky-blue  camions 
rolling  by  and  the  groups  of  officers  and  soldiers  walking  the 
streets  or  seated  about  the  tables  of  the  cafes.  The  martial 
throng  is  doubtless  augmented  by  many  soldiers  from  the  great 
Camp  of  Chalons,  15  kilometers  north  of  the  city;  the  train- 
ing and  concentration  center  established  by  Napoleon  iii  in 
1856,  from  which,  in  1870,  the  ill-fated  Army  of  Chalons, 

13 


184         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

under  Marshal  MacMahon,  set  forth  to  its  destruction  at 
Sedan.  At  Vadenay  Farm,  St.  Hilaire-le-Grand,  which,  as 
Father  Duffy  said,  "does  not  look  particularly  saintly,  nor 
hilarious,  nor  grand,"  and  other  places  in  the  Camp  of  Chalons, 
the  Forty-second  American  Division,  after  passing  through 
Chalons,  bivouacked  on  their  way  into  the  Auberive  sector, 
where  they  helped  to  give  to  the  Germans  such  a  thorough 
beating  on  July  15,  1918. 

To  return  to  the  Place  de  Ville,  the  most  imposing  build- 
ing upon  it  is,  appropriately  enough,  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  a 
handsome  edifice,  with  the  usual  Doric  columns  in  the  peristyle 
and  four  great  lions  crouching  at  the  corners  of  the  broad 
steps;  "four  enormous  bow-wows  in  stone,"  Victor  Hugo 
irreverently  called  them.  The  building  was  erected  in  1772-6, 
replacing  a  structure  of  the  Sixteenth  century,  said  to  have 
been  much  more  beautiful,  because  the  latter  had  become  too 
small  for  its  purposes.  In  front  of  the  municipal  building,  a 
bust  of  President  Carnot  receiving  honors  from  allegorical 
female  figures  in  bronze  commemorates  the  great  review  of 
1 89 1  at  Matignicourt,  previously  mentioned.  The  Library  and 
Museum  are  across  the  square,  the  former  containing  1,100 
manuscripts,  a  number  of  books  printed  before  the  year  1500, 
many  rare  prints  and  more  than  100,000  modern  volumes. 
The  Museum  houses  antiquities,  statuary,  and  paintings, 
among  the  latter  being  some  by  Holbein  and  Giotto,  and  a 
remarkable  collection  of  images  of  Hindu  gods,  given  by  M. 
Eugene  Lamairesse,  a  French  engineer  who  resided  during 
the  sixties  in  the  French  establishments  about  Pondichery. 

The  actual  center  of  Chalons,  despite  the  importance  of  the 
Place  de  Ville,  is  in  the  Place  de  la  Republique,  lying  a  little 
farther  to  the  north,  A  monumental  fountain  graces  the  broad 
paved  expanse  where  circulate  the  slow  currents  of  local  busi- 


Chalons,  Keeper  of  the  Mighty  Legend       185 

ness,  and  around  it  are  grouped  many  houses  and  store  build- 
ings interesting  for  their  antiquity.  Most  curious  of  them  is 
the  four-story  hotel,  perhaps  the  best  one  in  the  city,  called 
the  Hotel  de  la  Haute-Mere-Dieu.  It  is  so  old  that  it  was  a 
house  of  refuge  in  the  Twelfth  century.  Reputed  to  have  been 
originally  built  of  wood  and  plaster,  it  was  remodeled  in  1830, 
retaining,  however,  its  name,  which  is  believed  to  have  been 
derived  from  a  statuette  of  the  Virgin  formerly  set  upon  its 
fagade.  Many  a  cafe  along  the  Place  de  la  Republique  can 
furnish  to  the  visitor  the  best  of  Chalons  champagne  and 
excellent  beer  of  local  manufacture,  which  does  not  go  amiss 
before  starting  out  on  a  walk  through  the  Jard  and  the  Jardin 
Anglais,  whose  shady  promenades  and  handsome  trees  and 
flower  beds  border  the  canals  and  the  Marne  in  the  southwest- 
ern quarter  of  the  city. 

The  Jard  is  more  than  a  mere  breathing  place  in  a  modern 
city.  It  has  had  a  stirring  part  in  many  of  the  vital  events 
of  Chalons,  from  the  days  in  1147  when,  within  its  precincts, 
St.  Bernard  preached  the  Second  Crusade  to  the  days  in 
August,  1918,  when  General  Gouraud  there  decorated  the  flags 
of  28  regiments  which  had  participated  with  conspicuous  valor 
in  the  repulse  of  the  Germans  on  the  Champagne  front  dur- 
ing the  previous  month.  Particularly  attractive  in  this  region 
of  parks  is  the  short  Canal  de  Nau,  bordered  with  stately 
poplars  and  spanned  by  a  tiny  bridge,  while  a  little  farther 
on  the  graceful  passerelle  arches,  like  a  Japanese  wishing 
bridge  over  the  chief  lateral  canal  and  gives  access  to  the 
English  Garden. 

Two  of  the  broad  boulevards,  called  allies,  laid  out  in 
modern  days  on  the  south  side  of  the  city,  cross  one  another 
not  far  below  the  gardens ;  the  Alices  de  Forets  and  the  Allees 
Ste.   Croix.     Almost  always  animated    by    pedestrians    and 


1 86        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

pleasure  vehicles,  these  handsomely  parked  boulevards  pass 
the  large  auditorium,  the  Cirque,  and  the  Allee  Ste.  Croix 
soon  arrives  at  an  impressive  souvenir  of  bygone  days,  the 
Porte  Ste.  Croix.  This  massive  triumphal  archway,  60  feet 
in  height,  and  imposing  even  though  still  unfinished  after  the 
lapse  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  years,  was  begiui  and  nearly 
completed  for  the  reception  of  Marie  Antoinette,  Archduchess 
of  Austria,  on  the  occasion  of  her  journey  from  Vienna  to 
Paris  in  1770  to  become  the  bride  of  the  French  Dauphin, 
afterward  King  Louis  xvi.  A  gateway  of  the  fortifications 
called  the  Porte  Ste.  Croix  was  torn  down  and  replaced  by  the 
present  one,  which  was  named  at  the  time  the  Porte  Dauphine. 
•Its  columns  are  adorned  with  heavily  carved  groups  of  mili- 
tary trophies  but  the  inscriptions  on  the  tablets  erected  in 
honor  of  the  Austrian  princess  were  all  effaced  during  the 
Revolution,  being  repugnant  to  the  eyes  of  the  republicans, 
who,  in  addition  to  destroying  them,  restored  its  original 
name  to  the  gateway.  Under  very  different  circumstances 
Marie  Antoinette  herself  passed  once  more  under  the  arch 
named  in  her  honor  when  in  June,  1791,  she,  with  her  royal 
husband,  was  brought  back,  a  recaptured  fugitive,  from  Va- 
rennes,  to  suffer  imprisonment  and  death  at  the  hands  of  the 
revolutionists. 

Hard  by  the  gateway  of  moving  memories  stands,  half 
hidden  among  trees  and  with  its  venerable  stonework  etched 
by  patches  of  moss,  a  fragment  of  the  old  fortifications,  built 
in  1642.  Preserved  for  the  curious  eyes  of  future  generations 
the  old  Bastion  Mauvillain,  which  formerly  guarded  the  Marne 
entrance  to  the  city,  looks  out  upon  modern  gardens  and  resi- 
dences like  a  grizzled  hermit  peering  from  his  woodland 
sanctuary,  curious  but  unmoved  among  the  changes  wrought 
by  time.    The  bridge,  a  century  older  than  the  bastion,  which 


Chalons,  Keeper  of  the  Mighty  Legend       187 

spans  the  slender  stream  of  the  Canal  de  Mau,  near  by,  is  of 
unusual  construction,  its  single  arch  flaring  out  funnelwise 
to  much  greater  dimensions  at  the  edge  of  the  masonry.  Four 
heraldic  escutcheons  on  the  sides  of  the  bridge  have  been  al- 
most obliterated  by  time  and  perhaps  mutilation. 

The  Allee  Ste.  Croix,  extending  northeastward,  passes  near 
the  stately  building  of  the  Prefecture  of  the  IMarne,  where 
Louis  XVI  and  Marie  Antoinette  were  warmly  welcomed  by 
the  Chalonais  of  Royalist  sympathies  when  they  came  back 
from  Varennes,  and  where  they  lodged  on  June  22  and  23, 
1791.  Not  far  beyond  we  find  ourselves  in  front  of  a  build- 
ing which  is  not  only  the  most  venerable,  but  also  perhaps  the 
loveliest  of  the  city,  the  Church  of  St.  Jean.  It  dates  from 
the  middle  of  the  eleventh  century,  when  the  Romanesque 
nave  was  built  and  contains  touches  of  all  subsequent  types 
of  architecture  prevalent  from  the  thirteenth  to  the  eighteenth 
centuries.  The  broad,  low  fagade  of  the  western,  or  main, 
entrance,  with  its  hoary  buttresses  and  flatly  arched  doorway 
surmounted  by  a  similarly  arched  window  reaching  almost 
to  the  peak  of  the  roof,  is  a  work  of  the  fourteenth  century. 
The  square  tower  above  the  transept  is  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury. A  splendid  balustrade  of  lacy  stone  carving  surmounts 
the  first  chapel  on  the  right  of  the  fagade.  The  interior  is 
not  less  attractive,  the  transept  and  apse  displaying  the  art 
of  the  thirteenth  century,  while  a  good  many  tombstones,  still 
either  resting  in  the  floor  or  removed  to  the  walls,  recall  to 
mind  the  names  and  virtues  of  personages  who  passed  from 
earth  long  centuries  ago. 

St,  Jean's,  however,  contains  a  less  number  of  gravestones 
than  the  Church  of  St.  Loup,  on  the  Boulevard  St.  Jacques, 
whose  square  Gothic  tower  is  visible  from  the  former  edifice 
across  the  exterior  streets  of  the  city.     Among  the  parishes 


1 88        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

of  Chalons,  that  of  St.  Loup  is  the  "  infant,"  dating  only  from 
the  year  1245,  while  the  building  itself,  succeeding  an  earlier 
one,  was  begun  in  1459.  Though  built  when  Gothic  archi- 
tecture was  beginning  to  fall  into  decay,  the  purity  of  style 
of  St.  Loup's  has  caused  it  to  be  recognized  as  one  of  the 
very  finest  examples  of  Gothic  art  in  northern  France.  This 
is  particularly  true  of  its  interior,  whose  beauty  and  harmony 
of  proportions  are  remarkable.  Fine  tiles,  paintings,  and 
sculptures,  the  work  of  many  old  masters,  enrich  both  the 
body  of  the  church  and  the  chapels,  while  the  floor  of  the 
nave  is  completely  paved  with  curious  tombstones  of  all  epochs. 

The  extensive  military  quarters,  hard  by  St.  Loup's,  in- 
clude barracks  for  several  regiments  of  infantry,  artillery, 
and  cavalry;  drill  grounds,  hospitals,  and  many  other  faci- 
lities occupying  a  great  extent  of  ground. 

Returning  toward  the  center  of  the  city,  past  the  build- 
ings of  the  Army  Headquarters  and  the  Palais  de  Justice, 
one  arrives,  just  back  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  at  the  Church 
of  Notre  Dame,  of  which  Victor  Hugo  said,  writing  during 
his  journey  to  the  Rhine  in  1839: 

I  found  what  I  did  not  expect  —  that  is,  a  very  pretty  Notre  Dame 
at  Chalons.  What  have  the  antiquaries  been  thinking  of  when,  speak- 
ing of  St.  Etienne,  they  never  breathed  a  word  about  Notre  Dame? 
The  Notre  Dame  of  Chalons  is  a  Roman  church,  with  arched  roofs 
and  a  superb  spire,  bearing  the  date  of  the  fourteenth  century.  In 
the  middle  is  a  lantern  crowned  with  small  pinions.  A  beautiful  coup 
d'oeil  is  afforded  here  (a  pleasure  which  I  enjoyed)  of  the  town,  the 
Marne  and  the  surrounding  hills.  The  traveler  may  also  admire  the 
splendid  windows  of  Notre  Dame,  and  a  rich  portail  of  the  thirteenth 
century.  In  1793  the  people  of  this  place  broke  the  windows  and 
pulled  down  the  statues;  they  also  destroyed  the  lateral  gateway  of 
the  cathedral,  and  all  the  sculpture  that  was  within  their  reach. 
Notre  Dame  had  four  spires,  three  of  which  are  demolished,  testifying 
the  height  of  stupidity,  which  is  nowhere  so  evident  as  here.  The 
French  Revolution  was  a  terrible  one;  the  revolution  Champenoise 
was  attended  with  acts  of  the  greatest  folly. 


Chalons,  Keeper  of  the  Mighty  Legend       189 

In  an  earlier  paragraph  of  the  same  letter,  the  author  of 
The  Rhine  referred  to  the  Cathedral  of  St.  ;&tienne,  easily 
the  show  building  of  Chalons,  which  we  encounter  on  again 
traversing  the  street  leading  from  the  Hotel  de  Ville  to  the 
Marne,  in  the  following  unflattering  words : 

The  exterior  of  the  cathedral  is  noble,  and  there  are  still  remains 
of  some  rich  stained  glass  —  a  rose  window  especially.  I  saw  in  the 
church  a  charming  chapel  of  the  Renaissance,  with  the  F  and  the 
salamander.  Outside  the  church  there  is  a  Roman  tower  in  the 
severest  and  purest  style,  and  a  deHcious  portal,  of  the  fourteenth 
century.  But  the  dilapidations  are  hideous.  The  church  is  filthy; 
the  sculptures  of  Francis  I  are  covered  with  yellow  paint,  and  the 
graining  is  daubed  over  also.  The  fagade  is  a  poor  imitation  of  our 
facade  of  St.  Germain;  but  the  spires!  I  had  been  promised  open- 
worked  steeples.  I  counted  on  these  steeples.  I  found  two ;  but  they 
had  heavy  pointed  caps  of  stone  —  open-worked,  if  you  please,  and 
original  enough  for  that  matter,  but  heavily  moulded,  and  with 
volutes  intermingled  with  ogives !    I  went  away  terribly  disappointed. 

The  "dilapidations"  and  filth  referred  to  by  Victor  Hugo 
are  not  so  obvious  today,  the  great  church  having  been  well 
restored,  while  an  increasing  respect  for  things  spiritual  and 
venerable  has  accomplished  cleanliness.  Begun  in  the  thir- 
teenth century  and  not  really  completed  for  three  hundred 
years,  its  appearance  suffered  by  finally  receiving  upon  its 
Gothic  bulk  a  classic  fagade  of  the  sixteenth  century.  But, 
as  is  pointed  out  by  Elise  Whi^tlock  Rose  in  Cathedrals  and 
Cloisters  of  Northern  France; 

The  treasure  of  Chalons  is  its  pointed  interior  —  the  nave  with  its 
rows  of  white,  round  pillars  and  narrow,  foliated  capitals,  "  the  trans- 
parent gallery  "  of  an  ornate  and  handsome  triforium,  the  high  cleres- 
tory, and  a  vaulting  which  is  an  example  of  good  rebuilding.  In  the 
choir,  the  triforium  is  enclosed  by  solid  masonry,  and  the  capitals  and 
abaci  are  almost  severe,  but  the  general  conception  is  fine ;  and  the 
three  apsidal  windows,  like  a  few  in  the  aisles  and  in  the  north 
transept,  contain  remarkable  stained  glass. 


190         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

Many  tales  centering  about  the  cathedral  have  come  down 
through  the  years,  one  of  the  most  touching  being  that  of 
Margaret,  daughter  of  James  i  of  Scotland  and  wife  of  the 
Dauphin,  Louis,  afterward  Louis  xi.  Of  a  gentle  and  poet- 
ical disposition,  she  had  been  married  in  infancy  to  the  tur- 
bulent and  headstrong  prince,  who  detested  her  sensitive 
nature  and  made  her  supremely  unhappy.  On  the  occasion 
of  a  visit  to  Chalons  she  fell  ill  and,  finding  that  her  end 
was  approaching,  she  asked  to  be  taken  from  the  chateau  to 
the  quiet  cloisters  of  the  cathedral.  Here  her  confessor  con- 
jured her  to  forgive  all  those  who  had  wronged  her.  After  a 
long  silence  the  poor,  dying  girl,  who  had  known  only  twenty 
years  of  life,  replied,  turning  her  face  to  the  wall:  "I  forgive. 
Fie  upon  existence!     Do  not  speak  to  me  of  it." 

At  the  season  of  Easter  during  the  Middle  Ages,  the  old 
cathedral  used  to  see  enacted  the  story  of  that  joyous  Chris- 
tian festival  with  elaborate  pomp  and  verisimilitude  to  the 
Gospel  narratives.  The  Angels  of  the  Sepulchre,  the  three 
Marys,  and  all  the  other  actors  in  the  divine  drama  took 
their  parts  in  speech  and  action  in  the  white  aisles  which 
have  long  since  become  unaccustomed  to  such  naive  and 
realistic  interpretations  of  the  foundation  stories  of  our 
faith.  It  is  the  mighty  bulk  of  this  storied  cathedral,  loom- 
ing above  the  lesser  roofs  around  it,  which  overtowers  Cha- 
lons as  one  leaves  it  behind  and  resumes  his  journey  down 
the  Marne,  and  well  it  seems  to  embody  and  typify  the  solid- 
ity of  the  noble  town  and  the  grandeur  of  the  part  which  it 
has  played  in  the  long  drama  of  French  history. 

It  may  be  added  that  in  September,  1914,  Chalons  suf- 
fered fire  from  the  German  artillery,  which  broke  some  of 
the  old  stained  glass  in  St.  Etienne's  and  crushed  in  the  roof 
of  the  children's  ward  in  the  Hospital,  which,  providentially, 


Chalons,  Keeper  of  the  Mighty  Legend       191 

was  empty  at  the  time.  This  occurred  on  the  fourth  of  the 
month,  before  the  Saxon  troops  of  von  Hansen's  Third 
Army  entered  the  streets.  A  ransom  of  500,000  francs  was 
collected  from  the  city  by  the  invaders  before  their  precip- 
itate departure  on  the  night  of  September  11.  There- 
after at  intervals  throughout  the  war  the  enemy  indulged  his 
passion  for  indiscriminate  destruction  and  terrorism  by 
bombing  the  city  from  Zeppelins  and  airplanes  and  bombaid- 
ing  it  with  long-range  guns,  thereby  compassing  the  death 
of  a  few  noncombatants  and  the  demolition  of  a  few  houses. 
But  for  the  greatest  event  of  world  history  with  which  the 
name  of  Chalons  is  forever  linked,  we  must  go  back  to  the 
invasion  of  the  first  Huns  under  Attila,  who  preceded  those 
under  von  Hansen  by  fifteen  hundred  years. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE   SCOURGE   OE   GOD 

FIFTEEN  kilometers  northeast  of  Chalons  and  about 
half  that  distance  from  the  exquisite  pilgrimage  Abbey 
of  Notre  Dame  de  I'Epine,  there  lies  within  a  bend  of  the 
tiny  river,  Noblette,  an  immense  circular  rampart,  overlook- 
ing the  low,  sloping  roofs  of  the  hamlet  of  La  Cheppe  and 
enclosing  a  level  space  40  or  50  acres  in  extent.  Standing 
upon  its  turf-grown  crest  one  looks  down  upon  the  interior 
from  a  height  of  about  20  feet  but  upon  the  exterior  side  he 
views  a  surrounding  ditch  whose  bottom,  from  which  large 
trees  shoot  up,  is  40  or  more  feet  below  him.  In  1919  the 
interior  of  this  earthwork,  which  is  not  more  than  15  kilo- 
meters behind  the  forward  trenches  of  the  Champagne  front, 
was  littered  with  the  debris  of  a  huge  French  artillery  am- 
munition dump,  the  giant  projectiles  of  long-range  guns  be- 
ing scattered  in  particular  abundance  over  the  ground. 

This  spot  is  the  one  famed  in  local  tradition  as  the 
"  Camp  of  Attila."  The  vast  circular  walls  of  earth,  almost  as 
high  as  the  ramparts  of  Paris,  which  the  storms  of  fifteen 
centuries  have  not  diminished,  are  believed  to  be  the  work 
of  the  multitudinous  hands  of  the  Hunnish  Army  which  had 
swept  Europe  from  the  Danube  to  the  Loire  until  checked 
at  Orleans  by  the  Gallo-Roman  forces  of  the  Roman  gen- 
eral, Aetius,  and  Theodoric,  King  of  the  Visigoths.  Nor, 
in  the  opinion  of  Sir  Edward  S.  Creasy,  the  most  eminent 
English  authority  on  that  momentous  campaign  and  battle, 

....  is  there  any  reason  to  question  the  correctness  of  the  title, 
or  to  doubt  that  behind  these  very  ramparts  it  was  that,  fourteen 
hundred  years  ago,  the  most  powerful  heathen  king  that  ever  ruled 

192 


The  Scourge  of  God  193 

in  Europe,  mustered  the  remnants  of  his  vast  army  which  had 
striven  on  these  plains  against  the  Christian  soldiery  of  Toulouse 
and  Rome.  Here  it  was  that  Attila  prepared  to  resist  to  the  death 
his  victors  in  the  field;  and  here  he  heaped  up  the  treasures  of 
his  camp  in  one  vast  pile,  which  was  to  be  his  funeral  pyre  should 
his  camp  be  stormed.  It  was  here  that  the  Gothic  and  Italian 
forces  watched,  but  dared  not  assail,  their  enemy  in  his  despair, 
after  that  great  and  terrible  day  of  battle. 

Creasy  does  not  presume  definitely  to  locate  the  field  of 
the  struggle  which  had  brought  the  Huns  to  such  a  pass. 
But,  though  authorities  differ  on  this  point,  some  contending 
that  the  battle  probably  occurred  in  that  portion  of  the  Cham- 
pagne Pouilleuse  lying  southwest  of  the  Marne,  between 
Chalons  and  Troyes,  it  seems  far  more  logical  to  suppose 
that  it  occurred  northeast  of  Chalons,  between  that  city  and 
the  Noblette.  Having  already  learned  respect  for  his  foes 
on  the  Loire,  so  good  a  general  as  Attila  would  hardly  have 
offered  decisive  battle  on  a  field  where  he  would  have  a  large 
river  behind  him,  which,  in  case  of  his  defeat,  would  com- 
plete his  ruin.  Nor,  if  he  had  fought  on  such  a  field  and 
succeeded  in  passing  his  beaten  host  over  the  Marne  after- 
ward, would  he  have  been  likely  to  throw  away  the  oppor- 
tunity of  making  his  later  defensive  stand  behind  the  Marne 
itself  rather  than  behind  the  little  Noblette.  The  fact  appears 
to  be  that,  having  already  passed  the  Marne  before  the  battle, 
he  utilized  the  Noblette  afterward  as  the  nearest  good  defen- 
sive position  available,  so  locating  his  camp  as  to  make  the 
stream  serve  the  purpose  of  a  natural  wet  ditch  in  front  of 
it,  as  is  quite  obvious  from  even  a  moment's  study  of  the 
site. 

It  would  be  presumptuous  for  anyone  to  attempt  to  im- 
prove upon  the  polished  English  of  Sir  Edward  Creasy's 
description  of  the  battle  of   Chalons   in  his  classic  Fifteen 


194        ^^^^  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

Decisive  Battles  of  the  World,  or  to  add  matter  of  value 
to  his  keen  and  incisive  observations.  The  present  writer 
will  therefore  confine  himself  to  the  quotation  of  a  few  of 
the  more  immediately  relevant  paragraphs  of  the  English 
historian  upon  the  significance  and  the  actual  events  of  "  the 
first  battle  of  the  Marne." 

The  victory,  which  the  Roman  general  Aetius,  with  his  Gothic 
allies,  had  then  gained  over  the  Huns  was  the  last  victory  of  Im- 
perial Rome.  But  among  the  long  Fasti  of  her  triumphs  few  can 
be  found  that,  for  their  importance  and  ultimate  benefit  to  mankind, 
are  comparable  with  this  expiring  effort  of  her  arms.  It  did  not, 
indeed,  open  to  her  any  new  career  of  conquest ;  it  did  not  con- 
solidate the  relics  of  her  power;  it  did  not  turn  the  rapid  ebb  of 
her  fortunes.  The  mission  of  Imperial  Rome  was,  in  truth,  already 
accomplished.  She  had  received  and  transmitted  through  her  once 
ample  dominion  the  civilization  of  Greece.  She  had  broken  up  the 
barriers  of  narrow  nationalities  among  the  various  states  and  tribes 
that  dwelt  around  the  coast  of  the  Mediterranean.  She  had  fused 
these  and  many  other  races  into  one  organized  empire,  bound 
together  by  a  community  of  laws,  of  government  and  institutions. 
Under  the  shelter  of  her  full  power  the  True  Faith  had  arisen 
in  the  earth,  and  during  the  years  of  her  decline  it  had  been 
nourished  to  maturity,  and  had  overspread  all  the  provinces  that 
ever  obeyed  her  sway.  For  no  beneficial  purpose  to  mankind  could 
the  dominion  of  the  seven-hilled  city  have  been  restored  or  pro- 
longed. But  it  was  all  important  to  mankind  what  nations  should 
divide  among  them  Rome's  rich  inheritance  of  empire ;  whether  the 
Germanic  and  Gothic  warriors  should  form  states  and  kingdoms 
out  of  the  fragments  of  her  dominions,  and  become  the  free  mem- 
bers of  the  commonwealth  of  Christian  Europe;  or  whether  pagan 
savages  from  the  wilds  of  Central  Asia  should  crush  the  relics  of 
classic  civilization  and  the  early  institutions  of  the  Christianized 
Germans,  in  one  hopeless  chaos  of  barbaric  conquest.  The  Chris- 
tian Visigoths  of  King  Theodoric  fought  and  triumphed  at  Chalons 
side  by  side  with  the  legions  of  Aetius.  Their  joint  victory  over 
the  Hunnish  host  not  only  rescued  for  a  time  from  destruction  the 
old  age  of  Rome,  but  preserved  for  centuries  of  power  and  glory 
the  Germanic  element  in  the  civilization  of  modern  Europe 

By  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century,  Germanic  nations  had  set- 


The  Scourge  of  God  195 

tied  themselves  in  many  of  the  fairest  regions  of  the  Roman  Em- 
pire, had  imposed  their  yoke  on  the  provincials,  and  had  undergone, 
to  a  considerable  extent,  that  moral  conquest  which  the  arts  and 
refinements  of  the  vanquished  in  arms  have  so  often  achieved  over 
the  rough  victor.  The  Visigoths  held  the  north  of  Spain  and  Gaul 
south  of  the  Loire.  Franks,  Alemanni,  Alans,  and  Burgundians 
had  established  themselves  in  other  Gallic  provinces,  and  the  Suevi 
were  masters  of  a  large  southern  portion  of  the  Spanish  peninsula. 
A  king  of  the  Vandals  reigned  in  North  Africa,  and  the  Ostrogoths 
had  firmly  planted  themselves  in  the  provinces  north  of  Italy.  Of 
these  powers  and  principalities,  that  of  the  Visigoths,  under  their 
king  Theodoric,  son  of  Alaric,  was  by  far  the  first  in  power  and 
in  civilization. 

The  pressure  of  the  Huns  upon  Europe  had  first  been  felt  in  the 
fourth  century  of  our  era.  They  had  long  been  formidable  to  the 
Chinese  Empire ;  but  the  ascendancy  in  arms  which  another  no- 
madic tribe  of  Central  Asia,  the  Sienpi,  gained  over  them,  drove 
the  Huns  from  their  Chinese  conquests  westward;  and  this  move- 
ment once  being  communicated  to  the  whole  chain  of  barbaric 
nations  that  dwelt  northward  of  the  Black  Sea  and  the  Roman 
Empire,  tribe  after  tribe  of  savage  warriors  broke  in  upon  the  bar- 
riers of  civilized  Europe,  vchjt  unda  supervenit  undam.  The  Huns 
crossed  the  Tanais  into  Europe  in  375,  and  rapidly  reduced  to  sub- 
jection the  Alans,  the  Ostrogoths,  and  other  tribes  that  were  then 
dwelling  along  the  course  of  the  Danube.  The  armies  of  the  Ro- 
man emperor  that  tried  to  check  their  progress,  were  cut  to  pieces 
by  them;  and  Pannonia  and  other  provinces  south  of  the  Danube 
were  speedily  occupied  by  the  victorious  cavalry  of  these  new 
invaders.  Not  merely  the  degenerate  Romans,  but  the  bold  and 
hardy  warriors  of  Germany  and  Scandinavia  were  appalled  at  the 
numbers,  the  ferocity,  the  ghastly  appearance,  and  the  lightning-like 
rapidity  of  the  Huns.  Strange  and  loathsome  legends  were  coined 
and  credited  which  attributed  their  origin  to  the  union  of 

Secret,   black,  and  midnight  hags 

with  the  evil   spirits  of  the  wilderness. 

Tribe  after  tribe,  and  city  after  city,  fell  before  them.  Then 
came  a  pause  in  their  career  of  conquest  in  southwestern  Europe, 
caused  probably  by  dissensions  among  their  chiefs,  and  also  by 
their  arms  being  employed  in  attacks  upon  the  Scandinavian  na- 
tions.    But  when  Attila   (or  Atzel,  as  he  is  called  in  the  Hunga- 


196        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 


rian  language)  became  their  ruler,  the  torrent  of  their  arms  was 
directed  with  augmented  terrors  upon  the  west  and  the  south;  and 
their  myriads  marched  beneath  the  guidance  of  one  master-mind 
to   the    overthrow   both   of   the    new   and   the   old    powers   of   the 

earth 

The  year  445  of  our  era  completed  the  twelfth  century  from 
the  foundation  of  Rome,  according  to  the  best  chronologers.  It 
had  always  been  believed  among  the  Romans  that  the  twelve  vul- 
tures, which  were  said  to  have  appeared  to  Romulus  when  he 
founded  the  city,  signified  the  time  during  which  the  Roman  power 
should  endure.  The  twelve  vultures  denoted  twelve  centuries.  This 
interpretation  of  the  vision  of  the  birds  of  destiny  was  current  among 
learned  Romans,  even  when  there  were  yet  many  of  the  twelve 
centuries  to  run,  and  while  the  Imperial  city  was  at  the  zenith  of 
its  power.  But  as  the  allotted  time  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  its 
conclusion,  and  as  Rome  grew  weaker  and  weaker  beneath  the 
blows  of  barbaric  invaders,  the  terrible  omen  was  more  and  more 
talked  and  thought  of;  and  in  Attila's  time  men  watched  for  the 
momentary  extinction  of  the  Roman  State  with  the  last  beat  of 
the  last  vulture's  wing.  Moreover,  among  the  numerous  legends 
connected  with  the  foundation  of  the  city,  and  the  fratricidal  death 
of  Remus,  there  was  one  most  terrible  one  which  told  that  Romu- 
lus did  not  put  his  brother  to  death  in  accident,  or  in  hasty  quarrel, 
but  that 

He   slew   his   gallant    twin 
With  inexpiable   sin, 

deliberately,  and  in  compliance  with  the  warnings  of  supernatural 
powers.  The  shedding  of  a  brother's  blood  was  believed  to  have 
been  the  price  at  which  the  founder  of  Rome  had  purchased  from 
destiny  her  twelve  centuries   of  existence. 

We  may  imagine,  therefore,  with  what  terror  in  this,  the  twelve- 
hundredth  year  after  the  foundation  of  Rome,  the  inhabitants  of 
the  Roman  Empire  must  have  heard  the  tidings  that  the  royal 
brethren,  Attila  and  Bleda,  had  founded  a  new  capital  on  the 
Danube,  which  was  designed  to  rule  over  the  ancient  capital  on 
the  Tiber;  and  that  Attila,  like  Romulus,  had  consecrated  the 
foundation  of  his  new  city  by  murdering  his  brother;  so  that,  for 
the  new  cycle  of  centuries  then  about  to  commence,  dominion  had 
been  bought  from  the  gloomy  spirits  of  destiny  in  favor  of  the 
Hun  by  a  sacrifice  of  equal  awe  and  value  with  that  which  had 
formerly  obtained  it  for  the  Roman 


The  Scourge  of  God  197 


Two  chiefs  of  the  Franks,  who  were  then  settled  on  the  Lower 
Rhine,  were  at  this  period  engaged  in  a  feud  with  each  other;  and 
while  one  of  them  appealed  to  the  Romans  for  aid,  the  other  in- 
voked the  assistance  and  protection  of  the  Huns.  Attila  thus  ob- 
tained an  ally  whose  cooperation  secured  for  him  the  passage  of 
the  Rhine;  and  it  was  this  circumstance  which  caused  him  to  take 
a  northward  route  from  Hungary  for  his  attack  upon  Gaul.  The 
muster  of  the  Hunnish  hosts  was  swollen  by  warriors  of  every 
tribe  that  they  had  subjugated;  nor  is  there  any  reason  to  suspect 
the  old  chroniclers  of  wilful  exaggeration  in  estimating  Attila's 
army  at  seven  hundred  thousand  strong.  Having  crossed  the 
Rhine,  probably  a  little  below  Coblentz,  he  defeated  the  king  of 
the  Burgundians,  who  endeavored  to  bar  his  progress.  He  then 
divided  his  vast  forces  into  two  armies  —  one  of  which  marched 
northwest  upon  Tongres  and  Arras  and  the  other  cities  of  that 
part  of  France;  while  the  main  body  under  Attila  himself,  marched 
up  the  Moselle  and  destroyed  Besan^on  and  other  towns  in  the 
country  of  the  Burgundians.  One  of  the  latest  and  best  bio- 
graphers of  Attila  well  observes  that,  "  having  thus  conquered  the 
eastern  part  of  France,  Attila  prepared  for  an  invasion  of  the 
West  Gothic  territories  beyond  the  Loire.  He  marched  upon  Or- 
leans, where  he  intended  to  force  the  passage  of  that  river;  and 
only  a  little  attention  is  requisite  to  enable  us  to  perceive  that  he 
proceeded  on  a  systematic  plan ;  he  had  his  right  wing  on  the  north, 
for  the  protection  of  his  Frank  allies;  his  left  wing  on  the  south, 
for  the  purpose  of  preventing  the  Burgundians  from  rallying,  and 
of  menacing  the  passes  of  the  Alps  from  Italy;  and  he  led  his 
center  towards  the  chief  object  of  the  campaign  —  the  conquest  of 
Orleans,  and  an  easy  passage  into  the  West  Gothic  dominion.  The 
whole  plan  is  very  like  that  of  the  allied  powers  in  1814,  with  this 
difference,  that  their  left  wing  entered  France  through  the  defiles 
of  the  Jura,  in  the  direction  of  Lyons,  and  that  the  military  object 
of  the  campaign  was  the  capture  of  Paris." 

It  was  not  until  the  year  451  that  the  Huns  commenced  the 
siege  of  Orleans;  and  during  their  campaign  in  Eastern  Gaul,  the 
Roman  general  Aetius  had  strenuously  exerted  himself  in  collect- 
ing and  organizing  such  an  army  as  might,  when  united  to  the 
soldiery  of  the  Visigoths,  be  fit  to  face  the  Huns  in  the  field.  He 
enlisted  every  subject  of  the  Roman  Empire  whom  courage,  pa- 
triotism, or  compulsion  could  collect  beneath  the  standards;  and 
round  these  troops,  which  assumed  the  once  proud  title  of  the  legions 


198         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

of  Rome,  he  arrayed  the  large  forces  of  barbaric  auxiliaries  whom 
pay,  persuasion,  or  the  general  hate  and  dread  of  the  Huns,  brought 
to  the  camp  of  the  last  of  the  Roman  generals.  King  Theodoric 
exerted  himself  with  equal  energy.  Orleans  resisted  her  besiegers 
bravely  as  in  after-times.  The  passage  of  the  Loire  was  skilfully 
defended  against  the  Huns;  and  Aetius  and  Theodoric,  after  much 
maneuvering  and  difficulty,  effected  a  junction  of  their  armies 
to  the  south  of  that  important  river. 

Upon  the  advance  of  the  allies  on  Orleans,  Attila  instantly  broke 
up  the  siege  of  that  city,  and  retreated  towards  the  Marne.  He  did 
not  choose  to  risk  a  decisive  battle  with  only  the  central  corps  of 
his  army  against  the  combined  power  of  his  enemies;  and  he 
therefore  fell  back  upon  his  base  of  operations,  calling  in  his  wings 
from  Arras  and  Besan?on,  and  concentrating  the  whole  of  the  Hun- 
nish  forces  on  the  vast  plains  of  Chalons-sur-Marne.  A  glance 
at  the  map  will  show  how  scientifically  this  place  was  chosen  by 
the  Hunnish  general  as  the  point  for  his  scattered  forces  to  con- 
verge upon;  and  the  nature  of  the  ground  was  eminently  favorable 
for  the  operations  of  cavalry,  the  arm  in  which  Attila's  strength 
peculiarly  lay. 

It  was  during  the  retreat  from  Orleans  that  a  Christian  hermit 
is  reported  to  have  approached  the  Hunnish  king  and  said  to  him, 
"  Thou  art  the  Scourge  of  God  for  the  chastisement  of  Christians." 
Attila  instantly  assumed  this  new  title  of  terror,  which  thenceforth 
became  the  appellation  by  which  he  was  most  widely  and  most 
fearfully  known. 

The  confederate  armies  of  Romans  and  Visigoths  at  last  met 
their  great  adversary  face  to  face  on  the  ample  battleground  of 
the  Chalons  plains.  Aetius  commanded  on  the  right  of  the  allies; 
King  Theodoric  on  the  left;  and  Sangipan,  king  of  the  Alans,  whose 
fidelity  was  suspected,  was  placed  purposely  in  the  center,  and 
in  the  very  front  of  the  battle.  Attila  commanded  his  center  in 
person,  at  the  head  of  his  own  countrymen,  while  the  Ostrogoths, 
the  Gepidae,  and  the  other  subject  allies  of  the  Huns  were  drawn 
up  on  the  wings.  Some  maneuvering  appears  to  have  occurred 
before  the  engagement  in  which  Aetius  had  the  advantage,  inas- 
much as  he  succeeded  in  occupying  a  sloping  hill  which  commanded 
the  left  flank  of  the  Huns.  Attila  saw  the  importance  of  the  posi- 
tion taken  by  Aetius  on  the  high  ground  and  commenced  the  battle 
by  a  furious  attack  on  this  part  of  the  Roman  lines,  in  which  he 
seems  to  have  detached  some  of  his  best  troops  from  his  center  to 


The  Scourge   of  God  199 

aid  his  left.  The  Romans,  having  the  advantage  of  the  ground, 
repulsed  the  Huns,  and  while  the  allies  gained  this  advantage  on 
their  right,  their  left,  under  King  Theodoric,  assailed  the  Ostro- 
goths, who  formed  the  right  of  Attila's  army.  The  gallant  king 
was  himself  struck  down  by  a  javelin,  as  he  rode  onward  at  the 
head  of  his  men,  and  his  own  cavalry  charging  over  him  trampled 
him  to  death  in  the  confusion.  But  the  Visigoths,  infuriated,  not 
dispirited,  by  their  monarch's  fall,  routed  the  enemies  opposed  to 
them,  and  then  wheeled  upon  the  flank  of  the  Hunnish  center, 
which  had  been  engaged  in  a  sanguinary  and  indecisive  contest 
with  the  Alans. 

In  this  peril  Attila  made  his  center  fall  back  upon  his  camp; 
and  when  the  shelter  of  its  intrenchments  and  wagons  had  once 
been  gained,  the  Hunnish  archers  repulsed,  without  difficulty,  the 
charges  of  the  vengeful  Gothic  cavalry.  Aetius  had  not  pressed 
the  advantage  which  he  gained  on  his  side  of  the  field  and  when 
night  fell  over  the  wild  scene  of  havoc,  Attila's  left  was  still  un- 
broken, but  his  right  had  been  routed,  and  his  center  forced  back 
upon  his  camp. 

Expecting  an  assault  on  the  morrow,  Attila  stationed  his  best 
archers  in  front  of  the  cars  and  wagons,  which  were  drawn  up 
as  a  fortification  along  his  lines,  and  made  every  preparation  for 
a  desperate  resistance.  But  the  "  Scourge  of  God "  resolved  that 
no  man  should  boast  of  the  honor  of  having  either  captured  or 
slain  him;  and  he  caused  to  be  raised  in  the  center  of  his  encamp- 
ment a  huge  pyramid  of  the  wooden  saddles  of  his  cavalry;  round 
it  he  heaped  the  spoils  and  the  wealth  that  he  had  won;  on  it  he 
stationed  his  wives  who  had  accompanied  him  in  the  campaign; 
and  on  the  summit  he  placed  himself,  ready  to  perish  in  the  flames, 
and  balk  the  victorious  foe  of  their  choicest  booty,  should  they 
succeed  in  storming  his  defenses. 

But  when  the  morning  broke,  and  revealed  the  extent  of  the 
carnage,  with  which  the  plains  were  heaped  for  miles,  the  succes- 
ful  allies  saw  also  and  respected  the  resolute  attitude  of  their 
antagonist.  Neither  were  any  measures  taken  to  blockade  him  in 
his  camp,  and  so  to  extort  by  famine  that  submission  which  it  was 
too  plainly  perilous  to  enforce  with  the  sword.  Attila  was  allowed 
to  march  back  the  remnants  of  his  army  without  molestation,  and 
even  with  the  semblance  of  success. 

It  is  probable  that  the  crafty  Aetius  was  unwilling  to  be  too 
victorious.  He  dreaded  the  glory  which  his  allies,  the  Visigoths, 
had  acquired;   and   feared  that  Rome   might  find  a   second   Alaric 

14 


200         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

in  Prince  Thorismund,  who  had  signalized  himself  in  the  battle, 
and  had  been  chosen  on  the  field  to  succeed  his  father,  Theodoric. 
He  persuaded  the  young  king  to  return  at  once  to  his  capital;  and 
thus  relieved  himself  at  the  same  time  of  the  presence  of  a  danger- 
ous friend,  as  well  as  of  a  formidable,  though  beaten,  foe. 

Attila's  attacks  on  the  Western  Empire  were  soon  renewed; 
but  never  with  such  peril  to  the  civilized  world  as  had  menaced 
it  before  his  defeat  at  Chalons.  And  on  his  death,  two  years  after 
that  battle,  the  vast  empire  which  his  genius  had  founded  was  soon 
dissevered  by  the  successful  revolts  of  the  subject  nations.  The 
name  of  the  Huns  ceased  for  some  centuries  to  inspire  terror  in 
Western  Europe,  and  their  ascendancy  passed  away  with  the  life 
of  the  great  king,  by  whom  it  had  been  so  fearfully  augmented. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  LIQUID  GOLD  0^  CHAMPAGNE 

AS  FROM  Vitry  to  Chalons,  so  from  Chalons  to  Eper- 
nay,  another  30  kilometers,  the  land  unfolds  in  vast, 
level  reaches  of  peaceful  fields  and  woodlands;  of  pastures 
dyed  with  bluets  and  poppies,  where  cattle  and  sheep  graze 
in  long  grasses;  of  meadows  where  the  hay-makers  are  toss- 
ing the  conical  cocks  upon  the  waiting  wains;  of  yellowing 
grain  fields  over  which  fly,  cawing,  the  slow-winged  rooks; 
of  village  spires  rising  in  the  distance  beside  the  white  roads. 
Through  it  all  the  Marne  threads  its  vagrant,  dimpling  path- 
way of  silver,  reflecting  the  blue  sky  and  fleecy  clouds  and 
the  lacelike  tracery  of  the  trees  that  bend  tenderly  above 
it;  laughing  over  shallows,  slipping  silently  through  shady 
pools  as  if  tiptoeing  past  the  drowsy  fishermen  who  sit  re- 
posefully,  rod  in  hand,  in  such  seductive  spots,  and  gliding 
with  dainty  tread  and  a  soft  whisper  of  waters  like  the  swish 
of  a  maiden's  skirt,  between  the  white  piers  of  overarching 
bridges. 

Not  a  few  of  these  bridges,  formerly  graceful  with  all 
the  grace  characteristic  of  French  stonework,  were  reduced 
to  uncouth  heaps  of  ruin  when  the  Germans  swept  with  fire 
and  sword  over  the  land  in  the  fall  of  19 14,  and  across  the 
mutilated  stumps  of  their  abutments  army  engineers  have 
since  thrown  sturdy  but  commonplace  spans  of  steel.  This 
is  the  case  at  Matougues,  a  rambling  little  lowland  village 
wherein  thatched  roofs  and  tile  vie  with  each  other  in  shel- 
tering the  squat  old  houses,  and  past  which  the  river  flows 
with  more  than  its  accustomed  speed  and  strength.  It  is  the 
case  again  a  little  way  farther  on,  at  the  next  village,  Aul- 

201 


202        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

nay,  where  the  Marne  nearly  loses  itself  in  wandering  about 
among  flats  and  islands  rank  with  marsh  grasses  as  it  creeps 
beneath  a  once  massive,  two-span  bridge  now  overleaped  by 
a  thin  roadway  of  steel  as  straight  and  rigid  as  a  crusader's 
sword. 

Fortunately  these  pretty,  isolated  villages  escaped  much 
other  damage  during  the  brief  sojourn  of  the  invaders.  The 
low,  Romanesque  church  of  Matougues,  with  the  neat  grave- 
yard and  high  stone  wall  around  it,  is  intact.  And  at  Jalons- 
les-Vignes,  which  keeps  guard  over  the  spot  where  the 
Somme-Soude  steals  from  its  marshes  into  the  Marne,  a  still 
more  beautiful  church  remains  as  it  was  before  the  war.  The 
pure  Roman  steeple  and  cloistered  porch  and  the  delicate 
modeling  of  the  ribs  and  the  capitals  of  the  columns  in  its 
interior,  all  deeply  touched  by  the  mellowing  tints  of  time, 
have  united  to  give  to  the  church  of  Jalons  more  than  a  local 
reputation  for  modest  loveliness. 

A  short  distance  up  the  Somme-Soude,  in  the  wide  marsh- 
lands which  lie  above  Jalons,  is  one  of  the  most  interesting 
spots  to  nature  lovers  to  be  found  anywhere,  the  ancient 
heronry  called  the  Grand-Ecury.  A  refuge  and  nesting- 
place  for  these  stately  aquatic  birds  since  a  time  so  remote 
that  its  origin  has  been  forgotten,  the  Grand-Ecury  is  owned 
and  protected  by  the  owner  of  the  Chateau  of  St.  Georges, 
four  kilometers  south  of  Jalons.  The  chateau  itself,  built 
of  alternate  courses  of  bricks  and  white  stone,  which,  with 
its  pointed  roofs  and  towers,  uplifts  itself  prettily  amid  the 
surrounding  woods,  is  worthy  of  a  visit.  But  the  prime 
object  of  interest  is  the  great  surrounding  park,  whose  noble 
trees  are  the  habitations  of  thousands  of  herons  from  Feb- 
ruary until  August  of  each  year. 

The  nests  of  the  herons,  built  of  twigs  and  reeds  and 


The  Liquid  Gold  of  Champagne  203 

mud.  are  sometimes  as  much  as  three  feet  in  diameter,  re- 
sembling clusters  of  mistletoe,  and  they  are  scattered  in  pro- 
fusion among  the  high  tops  of  the  oaks,  poplars,  ash,  and 
willow  trees  which  attain  to  great  size  in  the  moist  soil. 
During  the  hatching  season,  to  protect  the  eggs  from  the 
ravens  and  squirrels,  those  persistent  nest  robbers,  one  or 
other  of  the  parent  herons  generally  remains  on  the  nest 
while  the  other  seeks  for  food,  so  that  the  colony  is  always 
alive  with  birds.  Local  tradition  has  it  that  the  Grand- 
Ecury,  one  of  only  three  such  refuges  in  France,  was  first 
established  by  one  Count  of  Sainte-Suzanne  to  rid  the  sur- 
sounding  country  of  a  plague  of  vipers,  of  which  the  heron 
is  the  inveterate  foe ;  at  all  events,  vipers  are  today  conspicu- 
ous only  by  their  absence  in  the  vicinity  of  these  marshes. 

Already,  as  one  pursues  his  way  beside  the  flashing  links 
of  the  Marne,  he  has  seen,  growing  gradually  more  distinct 
in  the  wide,  blue  distance  before  him,  the  low  hills  of  Avize 
and  Vertus  reaching  away  to  the  southwest  and  the  higher 
escarpments  of  the  Mountain  of  Reims  stretching  along  the 
northwestern  horizon  above  Mareuil  and  Ay  and  Epernay, 
their  summits  crowned  with  dark  forests,  their  slopes  verdant 
with  the  vineyards  which  are  the  most  renowned  and  the 
most  valuable  in  the  world.  For  we  are  now  approaching 
that  limited  district  of  ancient  Champagne  which  has  made 
the  name  of  the  whole  widespread  province  familiar  to  man- 
kind everywhere,  and  whose  wine  of  liquid  gold, 

quick, 
As  the  wit  it  gives,  the  gay  champagne, 

is,  in  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Henry  James,  as  well  as  of  many 
others  who  could  not  express  themselves  so  felicitously,  the 
most  agreeable  of  all  the  delightful  gifts  of  France  to  the 


204        '^^^^  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

world.  In  this  joyous  land  it  seems  that  the  Marne,  casting 
aside  the  demure  sobriety  with  which  it  has  thus  far  pursued 
its  journey  through  life,  dances  like  a  nymph  of  Bacchus 
for  a  while  between  the  hillsides  which  are  a  riot  of  vines, 
past  Mareuil,  Ay,  Dizy,  Epernay,  Hautevillers,  Pierry,  Dam- 
ery,  and  Binson,  before  it  begins  to  grow  sedate  once  more 
under  the  reproving  glance  of  Pope  Urban  ii,  above  Cha- 
tillon,  and  becomes  quite  staid  again  about  Dormans.  Other 
famous  vineyards  and  wine  centers  lie  a  little  back  from 
the  river;  Reims,  22  kilometers  north  of  Epernay,  with 
Verzy,  Sillery,  and  Chamery  on  the  northern  slopes  of  the 
mountain  facing  it;  Vertus,  Avize,  Cramant,  and  Moussy  on 
the  slopes  and  in  the  folds  of  the  hills  south  of  the  river. 
But  we  must  confine  our  attention,  as  the  present  writer  was 
obliged  to  do,  to  a  glimpse  of  the  vine  culture  and  wine  mak- 
ing as  exemplified  in  the  places  which  the  Marne's  own 
waters  reflect. 

Mareuil-sur-Ay,  hugging  the  canal  and  the  river,  with  the 
abrupt  rise  of  its  rounded  hill,  completely  robed  in  vines, 
behind  it,  is  the  first  of  such  places,  and  literally  the  entrance 
to  the  vine  country,  for  here  the  hills  for  the  first  time  draw 
near  together  below  the  great  valley  which  commenced  above 
Chalons.  An  appropriate  entrance  it  is,  too,  for  as  one  stands 
on  the  river  bank  opposite  Mareuil  and  looks  northward,  the 
outline  of  the  hill  behind  the  village,  coupled  to  its  own  re- 
flection in  the  water,  forms  the  exact  image  of  an  enormous 
champagne  bottle  lying  upon  its  side;  the  slope  of  the  hill 
drawing  the  taper  toward  the  neck,  while  a  group  of  trees, 
just  properly  placed,  shapes  the  cork.  The  place  is  called 
La  Bouteille. 

Ay,  2  or  3  kilometers  down  river,  is  the  first  town  of  any 
size  connected  with  the  industry  of  the  valley.     A  beautiful 


The  Liquid  Gold  of  Champagne  205 

avenue,  named  after  Victor  Hugo,  bordered  by  four  rows  of 
great  trees,  leads  from  the  railway  station  and  the  port  of 
the  canal  into  the  town,  which  is  further  surrounded  by  a 
broad  boulevard  on  the  site  of  the  long-vanished  fifteenth 
century  fortifications.  But  though  the  town  of  5,000  people 
shows  every  evidence  of  prosperity  in  its  comfortable  resi- 
dences and  various  factories  of  articles  employed  in  the  wine 
industry,  such  as  bottles  and  packing  cases,  it  has  not  much 
of  interest  to  show  to  the  visitor  and  is  too  closely  connected 
with  Epernay,  both  physically  and  in  a  commercial  sense, 
to  be,  in  reality,  more  than  a  suburb  of  that  city. 

If  one  follows  the  broad  highway,  or,  rather,  street,  marked 
by  the  tram  line  from  Ay,  he  enters  Epernay  through  the 
suburb  of  Magenta.  But  the  higher  ground  on  the  south 
side  of  the  Marne,  where  the  road  comes  in  from  Chalons 
and  Jalons,  affords  the  more  extensive  and  beautiful  view 
of  the  city  as  one  approaches  it.  At  one's  feet  the  sparkling 
Marne,  tinted  by  the  blue  sky,  flashes  between  the  curving 
arches  of  the  highway  bridge,  turned  in  perfect  ovals  by  their 
own  reflections  in  the  stream.  Distant  roadways,  outlined  by 
tapering  poplars  and  hemmed  by  green  and  golden  fields  of 
crops,  form  a  tapestried  setting  for  the  gem  of  the  distant 
city,  whose  spires  and  ornate  roofs  are  etched  against  the 
slopes  of  the  Mountain  of  Reims,  royally  robed  in  the  emerald 
velvet  of  the  vineyards. 

Although  then  as  now  the  vineyards  surrounded  the  Eper- 
nay of  the  fifteenth  century,  there  is  nothing  else  today  to 
faintly  suggest  the  appearance  of  that  medieval  strong  place, 
straitly  confined  within  its  battlemented  walls,  the  spires  of 
two  churches,  as  shown  in  the  old  prints,  dominating  it.  One 
of  these  churches  is  now  quite  vanished;  the  other,  Notre 
Dame,  shows  only,  of  former  features,  the  fagade  and  some 


2o6        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

stained-glass  windows.  Indeed,  the  whole  city  has  been  trans- 
formed by  the  amazing  modern  success  of  its  industry,  be- 
coming as  long  ago  as  1839,  when  Victor  Hugo  visited  it, 
"the  town  for  champagne  —  nothing  more,  nothing  less," 
which  he  then  found.  Everything  attests  the  truth  of  the 
novelist's  dictum,  from  the  luxurious,  but  frequently  too 
ostentatious,  homes  of  the  wine  kings,  such  as  the  palatial 
Chateau  de  Pekin,  on  the  slopes  of  Mont  Bernon,  southeast 
of  the  city,  and  others  only  less  gorgeous  in  the  same  quarter, 
to  the  tall  chimneys  and  spreading  roofs  of  the  manufactories 
of  bottles,  stoppers,  and  packing  cases,  and  machinery  for 
rinsing,  filling,  corking,  and  dosing  bottles.  There  are,  to 
be  sure,  other  industrial  plants;  large  breweries,  factories  of 
hats  and  millinery  and,  on  the  shores  of  the  Marne  near 
where  the  little  Cubry  brook  falls  into  it,  extensive  shops  of 
the  Chemin  de  Per  de  I'Est.  But  all  the  plants  last  mentioned 
are  insignificant  compared  with  those  of  the  forty-odd  manu- 
facturers and  wholesalers  of  wine  in  Epernay,  and  the  auxi- 
liary industries  connected  with  them. 

Even  the  extensive  surface  buildings  of  the  wine  industry 
do  not  truly  gauge  its  magnitude,  for  the  chalky  soil  beneath 
the  city  and  that  of  the  hills  around  it  is  honeycombed  with 
many  miles  of  cellars  and  subterranean  galleries,  where  by 
far  the  greater  part  of  the  fabrication  of  champagne  is  carried 
on  and  where  all  of  the  finished  product  is  kept  in  storage 
until  it  is  shipped  away.  Some  idea  of  the  extent  of  these 
cellars  may  be  gleaned  from  the  statement  of  Victor  Hugo, 
made  more  than  eighty  years  ago,  that  while  in  Epernay  he 
was  urged  to  visit  the  show  place  of  the  town,  a  cellar  con- 
taining 1,500,000  bottles  of  champagne.  He  made  a  well- 
intentioned  start  to  do  so,  but  on  the  way  thither  passed  a 
turnip  field  wherein  poppies  were  blowing    and    butterflies 


The  Liquid  Gold  of  Champagne  207 

sporting  in  the  sunshine.  The  poet  paused  to  enjoy  these 
simple  beauties  and  never  saw  the  cave.  The  latter  still 
exists,  even  larger  than  it  was  when  Hugo  was  there,  and 
there  are  others  as  extensive. 

During  the  battle  of  the  Meuse-Argonne,  a  delightful 
young  French  officer  who  was  stationed  at  the  headquarters 
of  the  First  American  Army  but  who,  in  civil  life,  was  presi- 
dent of  one  of  the  great  champagne  companies,  informed  the 
writer  that  the  cellars  of  his  company,  under  the  Mountain 
of  Reims,  contained,  at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  2,000,000 
bottles  of  champagne.  During  the  four  years  of  the  struggle 
the  galleries  were  thrown  open  for  the  use  of  troops  with- 
drawn for  rest  from  the  sectors  of  the  front  lying  in  the 
vicinity  of  Reims.  No  restrictions,  save  such  as  might  be 
imposed  by  their  officers,  were  placed  upon  the  soldiers 
regarding  the  use  of  the  stored  wines.  The  young  officer, 
while  laughingly  admitting  that  the  contents  of  about  800,000 
bottles  had  thus  far  gone  down  the  throats  of  French  sol- 
diers to  brighten  their  sojourn  beneath  the  mountain,  declared 
himself  and  his  company  well  satisfied  with  this  drain  upon 
their  stock  in  view  of  the  fact  that  but  for  the  presence  and 
the  bravery  of  the  French  troops,  the  entire  contents  of  the 
cellars  would  long  before  have  been  consumed  or  destroyed 
by  the  Germans.  During  the  few  days  in  the  fall  of  1914 
in  which  the  invaders  held  Reims  and  Epernay,  they  put 
forth  their  best  efforts  but  could  make  only  slight  inroads 
on  the  enormous  wine  stocks.  But  even  such  inroads  had 
rather  disastrous  consequences  for  them,  as  has  been  amus- 
ingly pointed  out  by  Edmond  Pilon  in  his  little  volume.  Sous 
I'Egide  de  la  Marne.    He  writes : 

In  1914,  the  German  hordes  progressed  rapidly  to  the  land  of 
the  vineyards.     But,  accustomed  until  then  to  their  Bavarian  beer, 


2o8  The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

thick  and  nourishing,  they  were  overcome  by  the  vivacity  of  the  rare 
vintages.  Their  wits  befogged,  their  heads  on  fire,  after  some 
Hbations  they  reeled.  It  was  General  Foch  himself,  after  the  cere- 
mony at  Ferc-Champenoise,  who  related  to  his  hosts,  the  plan  of 
the  Battle  of  the  Marne  in  his  hand,  how,  two  years  before,  on 
entering  the  Chateau  of  Mondement  with  General  Humbert,  they 
scrambled  over  piles  of  empty  champagne  bottles  (left  by  the  re- 
treating enemy),  which  lay  there,  broken,  in  heaps. 

Some  of  the  wine  cellars,  during  their  many  decades  of 
use,  have  become  veritable  art  galleries  by  reason  of  paintings 
or  sculptures  placed  there  by  artists  more  or  less  famous, 
who  have  thus  attested  their  admiration  for  the  supreme 
"cup  that  cheers."  Particularly  striking  among  these  works 
of  art  is  an  eighteenth-century  bas-relief  in  one  of  the  caves, 
portraying  with  admirable  spirit  a  sumptuous  banquet  hall 
around  whose  table  a  throng  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  are 
sitting  or  standing  with  wine  goblets  upraised  in  response  to 
a  young  man  who  stands,  with  all  the  vivacity  of  life,  on 
a  chair  with  one  foot  on  the  table,  proposing  a  toast.  But 
it  is  in  Epernay  itself,  in  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  that  one  sees 
perhaps  the  most  distinguished  work  of  this  type,  a  paint- 
ing by  Armand  Guery.  Upon  a  large  canvas  appear  the 
swelling  slopes  of  the  Mountain  of  Reims,  clothed  with  the 
vines  of  folly,  while  beneath  this  attractive  scene  from  nature 
is  gracefully  materialized  the  cellar  of  the  good  Dom  Perig- 
non,  to  whom  tradition  ascribes  the  honor  of  having  dis- 
covered the  process  of  making  champagne. 

The  story  goes  that  the  Dom  Perignon  was  a  monk  of 
the  Abbey  of  Hautevillers  on  the  slope  of  the  mountain  op- 
posite to  Epernay,  at  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
So  skilled  was  he  in  vine  culture  and  the  preparation  of  wines 
that  he  was  reputed  to  be  able  to  tell,  by  tasting  a  single 
grape,  from  what  soil  and  what  vicinity  it  had  come.     Hav- 


The  Liquid  Gold  of  Champagne  209 

ing  heard  something  of  the  use  of  cork  for  stopping  bottles, 
he  procured  some  and  experimented  with  it  in  a  few  of  his 
own  wine  bottles,  in  place  of  the  plugs  of  hemp  saturated 
in  oil  which  were  universally  used  at  that  period.  The  corks 
confined  in  the  bottles  the  carbonic  acid  gas  which  thereto- 
fore had  slowly  escaped  through  the  hemp,  so  that  when  the 
Dom  Perignon  opened  one  of  his  experimental  bottles 
he  was  amazed  to  see  pour  from  it  the  white  foam,  or 
"  mousse,"  which  differentiates  champagne  from  still  wines. 
By  further  experiments,  the  monk  was  soon  able  to  demon- 
strate the  superior  excellence  of  the  new  product,  and  he 
himself  so  improved  the  process  of  producing  it  that  when 
he  died  in  171 5  it  was  with  the  satisfying  knowledge  that 
his  discovery  was  meeting  with  ever-increasing  appreciation. 

Out  on  the  wide  hillsides  about  Epernay,  with  the  peace- 
ful valley  of  the  Marne  far  below,  one  may  study  at  leisure 
the  beginning  of  the  long  and  intricate  process  of  champagne- 
making.  The  rare  combination  of  soil  and  climate  necessary 
to  the  growth  of  the  proper  varieties  of  red  and  white  grapes, 
possessing,  moreover,  the  proper  flavor,  have  made  the  slopes 
of  these  hillsides  so  valuable  that  every  available  foot  of 
them  is  utilized,  even  though  it  be  necessary  to  elaborately 
terrace  large  parts  of  them.  Here,  throughout  the  year  work 
goes  on  in  the  vineyards;  fertilizing  and  preparing  the  soil, 
planting  the  vines,  setting  the  wooden  stakes,  or  vine  props, 
which,  early  in  the  year  before  the  leaves  have  covered  them, 
so  curiously  mark  the  slopes  with  their  gray,  bristling  mul- 
titudes; hoeing,  weeding,  pruning,  spraying;  all  these  activ- 
ities have  their  time  and  season. 

The  gathering  of  the  ripe  grapes  usually  begins  in  the 
first  week  of  October  and  then  an  army  of  men,  women, 
and  children  who  come  in  from  far  and  near,  are  engaged 


2IO        The  Maine,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

in  the  task.  The  grapes  have  to  be  gathered  with  the  utmost 
care,  no  spoiled  or  unripe  ones  being  permitted  to  go  to  the 
presses.  From  the  presses  the  young  wine  is  drawn  into 
casks  in  the  great  cellars  and  remains  there,  fermenting,  until 
winter,  when  it  receives  the  first  racking  to  remove  the  crude 
sediment.  The  second  racking  takes  place  a  month  later  and 
then  the  wine  is  fined  of  all  impurities  and  bottled  in  certain 
proportions  of  the  various  growths  with  an  admixture  of 
old  wine.  If  not  sufficiently  sweet,  enough  candied  sugar  is 
added  to  produce  fermentation  in  the  bottle. 

Throughout  the  following  summer  the  bottles  lie,  corked 
and  clipped,  horizontally  in  racks  while  the  carbonic  acid 
gas  is  generated  and  the  sediment  falls  to  the  side  of  the 
bottle.  Later  they  are  set  in  other  racks,  neck  downward 
and  inclined  at  an  angle  of  about  seventy  degrees.  For  a 
month  or  six  weeks  they  are  then  daily  shaken  very  slightly 
and  the  angle  of  inclination  gradually  increased  to  loosen 
the  sediment  and  cause  it  to  settle  upon  the  cork.  When  this 
has  been  accomplished,  the  clip  is  removed  and  the  cork  flies 
out,  "degourging"  the  bottle  by  taking  the  sediment  out  with 
it.  The  bottles  are  then  "dosed,"  or  liqueured  by  being 
filled  up  with  a  mixture  of  old  wine,  cognac,  and  sugar,  the 
amount  of  liqueur  added  depending  upon  the  climate  of  the 
country  to  which  the  bottles  are  to  be  shipped,  those  destined 
to  cold  countries  receiving  a  higher  percentage  of  liqueur 
than  those  destined  for  warm  ones.  They  are  then  recorked, 
wired,  wrapped,  and  packed  ready  for  shipment.  Before  the 
war  about  5,000,000  bottles  of  champagne  were  being  laid 
down  annually  in  the  whole  champagne  district  and  there  was 
an  enormous  reserve  supply  on  hand,  in  storage;  perhaps 
between  80,000,000  and   100,000,000  bottles. 

In  the  growing  season  the  hills  of  the  champagne  country 


%.:'^^4S<^    ; 


-Ag^- 


r- 1  ^H■  t 


r^^^J*  f^ 


HI 


■        u 


hi 


o 


The  Liquid  Gold  of  Champagne  211 

are  beautiful  and  interesting,  both  as  viewed  from  a  distance 
and  on  closer  inspection.  Fine,  white  roads  wind  up  the 
slopes,  closely  bordered  by  the  vines,  which,  though  trimmed 
and  trained  too  rigidly  to  have  much  individual  grace,  yet 
collectively  weave  a  lovely  carpet  over  the  rising  ground, 
while  above  them  thriving  forests  occupy  the  higher  levels 
of  the  hills,  where  grapes  possessing  the  proper  qualities  can- 
not be  grown. 

The  writer  visited  the  vineyards  on  the  southern  slopes 
of  the  Mountain  of  Reims  on  a  summer  day  of  mist  and 
occasional  showers,  when  the  vines  and  grape  clusters  hung 
heavy  and  glistening  with  rain  drops  and  when,  far  below, 
the  Marne  wound  like  a  gray  ribbon  through  the  valley  with 
the  varicolored  walls  and  roofs  of  Epernay,  beside  it,  soft- 
ened to  dull  tones  in  the  humid  air.  A  short  distance  down 
the  river,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  of  Hautevillers,  the  straight 
trench  of  the  canal,  which  had  marched  side  by  side  with 
the  river  ever  since  the  two  entered  the  shadow  of  the  battle- 
mented  height  of  Langres,  could  be  seen  discharging  into 
the  Marne,  which  thenceforward  until  its  own  entry  into 
the  Seine  at  Charenton  is  itself  canalized  and  carries  the 
burdens  of  commerce.  The  habitually  cheerful  appearance 
of  the  country  was  sobered  to  a  quality  of  sadness  and  the 
fact  that  even  this  land,  associated  in  all  minds  with  light- 
hearted  joy,  has  borne  its  share  of  the  nation's  sorrows  was 
brought  sharply  to  mind  as  we  ascended  the  road  leading 
across  the  Mountain  to  Reims.  At  the  moment  when  we 
first  glimpsed,  near  the  crest,  the  roofs  of  Champillon,  we 
noticed,  also,  beside  us  in  the  midst  of  the  vineyards  a  small 
wooden  obelisk  painted  white  and  decorated  with  wreaths 
and  little  tricolor  flags.  It  was  evidently  a  temporary  monu- 
ment to  be  replaced  later  by  one  more  substantial  and  on  its 


212         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

face  it  bore  a  tablet  inscribed  with  twenty  or  more  names 
of  soldiers  Mort  a  Patrie,  who  had  been  employees  of  the 
company  owning  the  surrounding  vineyards.  Thus  did  the 
struggle  for  national  existence  strike  every  hamlet  and 
gathering  place  of  men  throughout  France  and  thus  has  the 
sacrifice  been  everywhere  tenderly  commemorated. 

In  Epernay  itself  the  evidences  of  war-time  devastation 
are  everywhere,  and  no  more  convincing  testimonials  to  the 
far-reaching  destructiveness  of  modern  war  could  be  found 
than  in  this  city,  which,  though  it  suffered  little  during  the 
few  days  of  actual  occupation  by  the  Germans  in  19 14,  was 
in  great  measure  wrecked  by  long-range  artillery  fire  and 
night  bombing  throughout  the  remainder  of  the  war.  Dur- 
ing the  second  Battle  of  the  Marne  in  1918  it  received  the 
greatest  amount  of  damage,  though  the  battle  front  was  at 
no  time  nearer  to  the  city  than  about  10  kilometers  and 
most  of  the  time  it  was  more  than  20  kilometers  distant.  The 
Church  of  Notre  Dame,  the  oldest  and  most  important  in 
the  city,  whose  other  churches  are  quite  modern,  had  its  in- 
terior completely  wrecked  by  bombs  which  destroyed  the 
roof,  though  the  walls  and  the  tall  spire  continued  to  stand. 
When  it  shall  have  been  restored  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  it 
will  be  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  inapplicable  the  jibe  of 
Victor  Hugo,  who  called  it  "a  hideous  building,  plastered 
white,"  having  a  heavy  appearance,  "with  triglyphs  support- 
ing the  architrave;"  and  added  that  he  thought  it  must  have 
been  built  "  from  the  design  of  M.  Porterlet-Galichet,  a 
worthy  grocer,  whose  shop  and  name  are  close  to  the  church." 
Even  Hugo,  however,  conceded  that  the  Notre  Dame  of 
Epernay  had  an  exquisite  fagade  and  some  fine  stained  glass. 

In  the  residence  streets  all  over  the  city,  such  as  the 
Rue  de  Brugny,   the  Rue  Jean  Thevenin  and  the  Rue  des 


The  Liquid  Gold  of  Champagne  213 

Berceaux,  many  houses  were  reduced  to  rubbish  heaps  by 
bombs;  and  stores,  restaurants,  and  hotels  were  similarly 
demolished  in  the  business  district  on  the  Rue  de  Chalons, 
the  Place  Hugues-Plomb,  the  Rue  du  Commerce,  and  other 
streets,  for  the  night  raiders  peppered  this  unfortified  city  in 
every  quarter,  mercilessly.  But  though,  for  a  long  time  after 
the  armistice,  one  could  go  scarcely  anywhere  in  Epernay 
without  having  one  or  more  ruins  in  sight,  a  place  of  such 
industrial  activity  will  doubtless  repair  its  injuries  speedily. 
Farther  down  the  river,  in  the  smaller  towns  of  the  wine 
district  extending  toward  Chatillon-sur-Marne,  the  case  is 
different  and  here  many  years  may  well  elapse  before  the 
ravages  of  war  will  be  effaced. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

IN    THE    SHADOW    OP    POPE    URBAN    II 

("COMPASSED  like  an  island  by  the  billowing  seas  of 
>l  vineyards  that  cover  the  hillsides  of  the  Marne's  left 
banlc  5  or  6  kilometers  below  Epernay,  it  is  a  surprise  as 
well  as  a  delight  to  come  upon  the  exquisite  Chateau  of 
Boursault,  unharmed  by  the  fighting.  High  up  on  the  hills 
stands  this  almost  regal  palace  of  the  Duchesse  d'Uzes,  in 
the  midst  of  a  park  of  fairy-like  beauty,  the  airy  towers, 
serried  windows,  and  white  walls  mirrored  in  the  blue  bosom 
of  a  small  lake  whose  sculptured  stone  basin  frames  it  as  the 
setting  of  a  goldsmith  frames  a  rare  turquoise.  Although  a 
modern  structure,  Boursault  is  built  according  to  the  best 
traditions  of  the  Renaissance  and  with  its  lovely  lines  and 
its  almost  unbelievably  beautiful  surroundings,  it  is  perhaps 
the  most  charming  chateau  which  looks  down  upon  the 
Marne  in  all  its  course.  Seen  either  close  at  hand,  with  the 
background  of  the  verdant  valley  behind  it,  or  from  the 
opposite  hills  at  Chatillon,  it  is  so  chaste,  so  ethereal,  so  like 
a  vision  materialized  out  of  the  mists  of  morning  or  the  sha- 
dows of  evening,  that  the  beholder  half  expects,  like  the 
Knight  of  Triermain,  to  have 

The  towers  and  bastions,  dimly  seen. 
And  Gothic  battlements  between 

dissolve  into  thin  air  and 

The  rocks  their  shapeless  form  regain. 

From  Boursault  one  may  look  across  the  Marne  and 
there  see,  couched  among  the  vines  on  the  towering  slopes, 
the  little  vineyard  village  of  Damery;  a  spot  which  holds 
a  romantic  interest  as  the  birthplace  of  the  beautiful  and 

214 


In  the  Shadow  of  Pope  Urban  II  215 

talented  actress  of  the  early  eighteenth  century,  Adrienne 
Lecouvreur.  In  this  simple,  secluded  Marne-side  country 
played  as  a  child  the  woman  who  freed  modern  drama  from 
much  of  its  antique  pedantry  by  giving  to  dialogue  its  true 
accents  of  eloquence  and  passion,  and  who  endowed  with 
pulsing  life  the  heroines  created  by  her  great  contemporaries, 
Racine,  Corneille,  and  Voltaire.  Molded  of  a  .surpassing 
beauty  and  with  a  mind  of  rare  power,  yet  swayed  by  -the 
strong  emotions  of  womanhood,  this  daughter  of  the  Cham- 
pagne Hills  lived  in  her  own  person  a  drama  more  moving 
than  any  in  which  she  acted,  and  derived  from  her  relations 
with  Voltaire  and,  more  than  all,  with  the  brilliant  and 
honored  soldier.  Prince  Maurice  of  Saxony,  the  victor  of 
Fontenoy,  a  fame  transcending  that  which  she  owed  to  her 
artistic  triumphs.  Dead  in  her  fortieth  year,  probably  from 
the  effects  of  poison  administered  by  a  rival,  her  checkered 
life  and  tragic  death  furnished  to  Scribe,  more  than  a  hun- 
dred years  later,  material  for  a  powerful  play,  and  here  is 
one  of  the  names  which  seems  destined  longest  to  survive 
among  those  of  the  children  of  the  Marne. 

A  seemingly  limitless  panorama  of  this  well-cultivated  re- 
gion is  visible  from  the  top  of  the  great  hill  of  Chatillon,  a 
veritable  promontory  jutting  into  the  river  valley,  so  con- 
spicuously rearing  upon  its  crest  a  gigantic  statue  of  Pope 
Urban  11  that  the  mighty  figure  dominates  the  country  for 
miles  around  and  remains  for  a  long  time  within  view  of 
the  trains  which,  far  below  in  the  valley,  speed  to  and  fro 
between  Paris  and  the  Rhine.  Standing  at  the  foot  of  the 
statue,  erected  in  1887,  of  the  virile  churchman  who  was  the 
organizer,  in  1095,  of  the  First  Crusade  and  the  most  illus- 
trious son  of  the  illustrious  feudal  house  of  Chatillon,  the 
spectator  sees,  far  to  his  left  up  the  valley,  the  smiling  vil- 

15 


21 6        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

lages  of  Boursault,  Villesaint,  Montvoisin,  and  Oeuilly, 
tangled  among  the  vineyards  and  reflected  in  the  bright  waters 
of  the  Marne.  The  white  wonder  of  Boursault  Chateau 
glimmers  in  its  park;  Epernay  itself  is  invisible  only  because 
a  rounded  hill  thrusts  out  between,  though  the  great  forests 
of  the  plateau  above  it  roll  away  in  dark  green  masses  to 
the  southern  horizon.  Nearer  at  hand,  cutting  its  way  deeply 
down  through  the  hills  from  the  north,  lies  the  vale  of  the 
Belval,  with  Montigny,  Villers,  Binson-Orquigny,  and  Reuil 
nestled  along  the  banks  of  the  tiny  stream,  while  south  from 
Chatillon  the  little  Flagot  pursues  a  sylvan  pathway  from 
the  Forest  of  Enghuien  and  the  sisterhood  of  lakes  that  send 
it  forth,  and  enters  the  Marne  hard  by  Port-a-Binson  and 
Mareuil-le-Port.  These  busy  shipping  points  on  the  canal- 
ized river,  through  which  pass  quantities  of  lumber  from  the 
forests  of  the  region,  present  in  the  distance  a  pleasing  scene 
of  activity  with  the  barges  moving  slowly  through  the  water 
or  lying  at  the  quays  receiving  their  cargoes.  Westward 
the  broadening  valley,  equally  entrancing  with  its  green  fields, 
its  woodland  masses,  and  its  red-roofed  villages,  unrolls 
itself  past  Dormans  until  the  observer  may  even  see  in  the 
blue  distance  the  spires  of  Passy  and  Reuilly,  at  the  head 
of  the  great  bend  of  Jaulgonne. 

At  the  very  foot  of  Chatillon  Hill  lie  the  remains  of 
what  was,  a  few  years  ago,  the  beautiful  Priory  of  Binson, 
once  an  important  monastic  establishment  of  the  White 
Fathers  of  Africa  and  then,  more  lately,  an  orphanage.  Its 
ranges  of  ancient,  low  stone  buildings,  particularly  the  for- 
mer House  of  the  Fathers,  with  its  ogival  porch  in  cloistral 
form  and  its  Roman  tower  surmounted  by  a  slender  spire, 
all  set  at  the  foot  of  the  vine-clad  hills,  has  been  said  "to 
complete  the  marvel  of  a  vast  picture  of  a  grace  very  capti- 


In  the  Shadow  of  Pope  Urban  II  217 

vating,  very  French."  But  that  marvel  is  now  no  more.  In 
the  battle  days  of  May,  June,  and  July,  19 18,  the  Germans 
of  von  Boehn's  army  assailed  and  the  French  of  Berthelot's 
army  defended,  in  desperate  combats,  the  storied  precincts 
of  the  Priory  of  Binson.  In  the  struggle  the  weathered  walls, 
the  graceful  cloisters,  the  heaven-pointing  spire  of  the  House 
of  the  Fathers,  rattled  down  beneath  the  shells  into  heaps 
of  ghastly  ruin. 

But  Binson  did  not  suffer  alone.  In  their  Friedensturm, 
or  "Peace  Battle,"  beginning  on  July  15,  the  Germans  on 
the  west  of  Reims  directed  their  greatest  effort  to  making 
progress  up  the  Marne  toward  Epernay  for  the  purpose  of 
carrying  the  Mountain  of  Reims,  capturing  Reims  itself,  and 
then  conquering  the  valley  of  the  Marne  as  far  as  Chalons. 
Their  greatest  progress,  registered  between  July  15  and  18, 
before  the  Allied  counter-attacks  fell  like  an  avalanche  upon 
their  rear,  was  made  along  the  Marne  from  the  vicinity  of 
Chatillon  to  a  point  just  beyond  Villesaint,  so  that  Pope- 
Urban's  statue  looks  down  upon  the  line  of  the  enemy's 
deepest  penetration  and  nearly  all  the  villages  within  view 
of  its  elevated  site  experienced  the  bitter  fighting  of  the  sec- 
ond Battle  of  the  Marne.  At  Mareuil-le-Port,  where  the 
Thirty-third  Regiment  of  Colonial  Infantry  covered  itself 
with  glory  by  stopping  the  rush  of  the  enemy  on  July  15; 
at  Oeuilly  and  Reuil  and  Venteuil  and  up  the  valley  of  the 
Belval,  the  French,  aided  by  two  Italian  divisions,  fought 
grimly  and  successfully  to  hold  the  foe  back  from  the  Moun- 
tain of  Reims  and  Epernay. 

Chatillon  itself,  on  its  mighty  hill,  escaped  nothing  save 
total  destruction.  In  1919,  the  traveler,  mounting  the  steep, 
stony  road  from  the  valley  to  this  eyrie  of  the  uplands,  found 
himself  moving  through  streets  defined  by  the  skeletons  of 


2i8         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

houses  and  lined  with  rows  of  building  stones  and  other 
debris  of  battle  picked  up  by  soldiers  to  clear  the  passage- 
ways of  the  streets.  Of  the  ancient  parish  church,  which 
preserved  columns  constructed  in  the  tenth  century,  but  a 
few  pieces  of  tottering  wall  remained;  gaping  shell  holes  in 
the  hotel  were  patched  with  tar  paper,  and  the  curious  old 
market  with  its  short,  massive  stone  columns  and  high  hip 
roof  was  reduced  to  the  stumps  of  a  few  columns.  Strangely 
enough,  the  huge  statue  of  Pope  Urban  ii,  standing,  with 
right  arm  majestically  extended  above  the  Marne,  on  the  hill 
crest  just  behind  the  village,  was  unscathed,  as  was  the 
single  fragment  of  towering,  ivy-draped  wall  hard  by  it 
which  is  the  only  remaining  relic  of  the  Chateau  of  Chatillon. 
This  vast  building  was  razed  by  the  German  soldiery  of  the 
Emperor  Charles  v  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and  its  masses 
of  building  stone  afterward  furnished  much  of  the  material 
from  which  the  houses  of  the  village  were  built. 

From  Chatillon  onward  for  30  kilometers,  along  the 
sweeping  bends  which  in  the  Brie  district  succeed  the  short 
windings  characteristic  of  the  upper  course  of  the  Marne, 
the  river  flows  through  the  region  of  fierce  fighting  of  the 
second  Battle  of  the  Marne.  It  is  the  land  wherein  the 
battle  river  of  France,  like  a  lovely  naiad  roused  to  fury  in 
defense  of  her  woods  and  hills,  in  very  truth  caused  the  in- 
vaders to  stumble  and  fall,  ready  prey  to  the  strong  arms 
of  the  Allied  hosts  which  guarded  her.  Before  following 
the  river  through  that  region  wherein  the  tapestries  of  the 
vineyards  gradually  give  place  to  the  more  luxuriant  loveli- 
ness of  cherry  orchards  cascading  down  the  hillsides,  it  will 
be  worth  while  to  gain  a  grasp  of  the  main  features  of  the 
great  battle  in  which  Americans,  for  the  first  time  on  Euro- 
pean soil  participated  in  large  numbers,  and  in  which  they 


5,%*: 


^'-^^ 


-♦<  "/vr^, 


>       ■r/zir'''^ 


&>^  "^^ 


-^^ flv»/i, ;  ■  ■  1MB!  ,.  , ;    -'  '>.-..  T, 


"■■->.  ^  ••■••■ 


French  fishermen  fisli — and  never  catch  anything! 

{Page  256] 


5?^^.  ■ 


ChatiHon-sur-Marne 


[Page  217] 


In  the  Shadow  of  Pope  Urban  II  219 

remolded,  as  it  were,  the  immortal  river  into  a  silver  thread 
uniting  forever  with  the  bonds  of  mutual  sacrifice  the  sym- 
pathies of  the  two  republics. 

The  second  Battle  of  the  Marne,  considered  in  its  broadest 
aspect,  lasted  for  more  than  two  months  and  divided  itself 
into  four  phases.  The  first  of  these  phases  was  the  initial 
break-through  of  the  German  armies  on  the  Chemin  des 
Dames  front  from  Berry-au-Bac,  on  the  Aisne,  to  Leuilly, 
on  the  Ailette,  on  May  2y,  19 18,  and  their  subsequent  advance 
to  the  Marne,  terminating  about  June  2.  The  second  was  the 
period  of  semistabilization,  marked  still  by  much  active  fight- 
ing, which  lasted  until  July  15;  a  period  of  about  six  weeks. 
The  third  phase  was  that  of  the  last  great  German  offensive, 
extending  from  the  western  edge  of  the  Argonne  Forest  to 
Chateau-Thierry,  and  continuing  from  July  15  to  18,  and 
the  fourth  phase  was  that  of  the  Allied  counter-attack  which 
definitely  changed  the  tide  of  the  war  and  which  was  driven 
forward,  at  the  beginning,  from  the  Aisne  near  Fontenoy 
to  Chateau-Thierry,  being  later  extended  to  the  vicinity  of 
Reims.  In  this  counter-attack,  begun  on  July  18,  the  enemy 
was  ejected  from  the  Marne  salient,  which  had  been  entirely 
flattened  out  by  August  4,  when  the  Allied  front  reached  the 
Vesle  River  from  Soissons  to  Reims  and  the  line  again  came 
temporarily  to  a  standstill. 

The  original  intention  of  the  Germans  in  attacking  on 
the  Chemin  des  Dames  seems  merely  to  have  been  to  force 
a  wedge  down  to  the  eastern  side  of  Compiegne  and  its  great 
forest,  which  were  already  closely  threatened  by  them  on  the 
north  from  the  positions  which  they  had  taken  in  their  March 
offensive  toward  Amiens.  Thus  they  aimed  to  create  a  salient 
from  which  the  Allies  could  be  pinched  out  and  driven  south- 
west directly  toward  Paris.     For  the  purpose  of  making  this 


220         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

attack,  General  von  Boehn's  Seventh  Army,  of  the  army 
group  of  the  German  Crown  Prince,  was  increased  from  a 
holding  strength  of  15  divisions  to  a  strength  of  42  divi- 
sions, of  which  28  divisions  were  picked  storm  troops.  It 
is  estimated  that  1,450  batteries  —  nearly  6,000  guns  —  were 
concentrated  to  support  the  attack,  while  the  infantry  was 
provided  with  enormous  numbers  of  heavy  and  light  machine 
guns  and  mine  throwers. 

Having  prepared  the  attack  with  the  utmost  secrecy,  von 
Boehn  was  able  to  take  his  opponents  entirely  by  surprise. 
This  portion  of  the  front  was  regarded  as  a  "quiet  sector" 
and  the  Sixth  French  Army  under  General  Duchesne,  on 
which  the  brunt  of  the  attack  fell,  was  holding  from  Pontoise 
to  Craonnelle,  a  distance  of  35  kilometers,  with  only  4  divi- 
sions, while  from  Craonnelle  to  Reims,  General  Micheler's 
Fifth  Army  had  6  divisions  in  line,  including  2  British  divi- 
sions which  were  resting  from  their  hard  fighting  of  March 
in  the  Somme  Valley.  The  German  advance  on  the  morn- 
ing of  May  27  completely  overwhelmed  the  feeble  resistance 
which  these  10  divisions  could  offer  on  so  extended  a  front, 
and  by  nightfall  of  the  first  day  the  enemy  had  swept  clean 
the  powerful  defenses  of  the  Chemin  des  Dames  and  reached 
the  watershed  between  the  Aisne  and  the  Vesle.  Three  days 
later,  in  spite  of  the  most  strenuous  efforts  of  General  Foch 
and  General  Petain  to  rush  in  enough  reinforcements  to  stop 
the  drive,  the  enemy's  foremost  divisions  had  reached  the 
Marne  from  Brasles  to  Jaulgonne,  in  the  center,  while  on  his 
right  he  had  taken  Soissons  and  was  approaching  the  Forest 
of  Villers-Cotterets  and  on  his  left  was  closely  pressing  the 
defenses  of  Reims,  struggling  for  a  foothold  on  the  skirts  of 
the  Mountain  of  Reims,  and  pushing  down  the  valley  of  the 
Ardre  between  that  important  eminence  and  the  Marne. 


In  the  Shadow  of  Pope  Urban  II  221 

Carried  away  by  their  amazing  success,  the  Germans  had 
by  this  time  apparently  determined  to  consecrate  all  of  their 
available  forces  to  the  exploitation  of  the  new  salient,  with 
the  object  of  forcing  their  way  across  the  Marne  and  spread- 
ing southward  toward  Montmirail  and  southwestward  to- 
ward Paris.  But  the  concentration  of  Allied  reserves  was 
by  now  sufficiently  heavy  to  contain  the  attack.  Between 
May  31  and  June  5  the  troops  defending  the  front  between 
the  Marne  and  Reims  succeeded  in  slowing  up  and  halting 
the  enemy  on  a  line  between  the  latter  city  and  Chatillon- 
sur-Marne.  From  Chatillon  to  Chateau-Thierry  he  was  held 
to  the  north  bank  of  the  river.  General  Marchand's  Tenth 
Colonial  Division,  to  which  was  attached  the  Seventh  Ma- 
chine-Gun  Battalion  of  the  Third  American  Division,  stran- 
gling his  violent  efforts  to  cross  at  Chateau-Thierry.  From 
this  city  to  the  Aisne  the  Germans  struggled  with  the  utmost 
determination  to  advance,  and  they  gained  a  little  more 
ground  but  were  stopped  in  the  center  just  outside  the  Forest 
of  Villers-Cotterets. 

Now  came  into  being  along  the  front  of  the  new  salient, 
as  elsewhere,  the  condition  of  almost  stationary  warfare 
which  had  generally  characterized  the  Western  Front  through- 
out the  war.  On  both  sides,  all  divisions  excepting  those 
needed  for  holding  the  line  or  for  local  operations  were  with- 
drawn for  rest,  training,  or  employment  elsewhere,  while 
artillery  duels,  raids,  or  attacks  with  limited  objectives  be- 
came the  order  of  the  day.  During  this  period,  on  the  line 
of  the  Marne  itself  the  Third  American  Division  took  over 
a  front  of  nearly  10  kilometers,  extending  from  the  vicinity 
of  Chateau-Thierry  eastward  to  the  Jaulgonne  bend.  On 
each  of  its  flanks  were  French  troops  and  it  had  in  support 
the  Twenty-eighth  American  Division. 


222        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 


By  local  operations  during  the  month  of  June  the  Ger- 
mans made  two  attempts  to  enlarge  the  Marne  salient  by 
driving  forward  its  flanks  at  Reims  and  north  of  the  Villers- 
Cotterets  Forest,  but  both  attempts  were  broken  up.  Finally, 
on  July  15,  following  preparations  more  formidable  than  they 
had  made  for  any  of  their  previous  attacks,  they  launched 
between  the  Argonne  and  Chateau-Thierry  on  a  front  of 
nearly  no  kilometers,  the  tremendous  ofifensive  advertised 
to  their  own  troops  as  the  Friedenstnrm,  or  "  Peace  Battle," 
which  was  designed,  like  von  Hansen's  and  the  Duke  of 
Wiirtemberg's  attack  on  Foch  and  Langle  de  Cary  in  the 
first  Battle  of  the  Marne,  to  smash  through  the  Allied  center, 
separate  Paris  from  Verdun  and  pour  the  Teutonic  hordes 
across  the  Marne  into  the  heart  of  France. 

In  undertaking  this  gigantic  project.  Ludendorff  and  Hin- 
denberg  put  to  the  hazard  virtually  all  of  their  reserve 
strength  in  the  desperate  hope  of  gaining  a  decision  before 
the  coming  hosts  of  America  should  give  to  the  Allies  a 
preponderance  of  numbers  too  great  to  be  overcome.  But 
in  doing  so  they  underestimated  both  the  resisting  power  of 
their  opponents  and  the  margin  of  reserve  strength  v^hich 
the  latter  already  possessed,  thereby  compassing  their  own 
undoing.  Fully  advised  by  a  service  of  information  which 
was  now  unexcelled,  of  the  time,  the  place,  and  the  strength 
of  the  impending  blow,  General  Foch  and  General  Petain 
met  it  at  all  points  with  forces  just  sufficient  to  smother  it, 
holding  in  hand  in  the  meantime  for  a  counter-blow  when 
the  proper  moment  should  arrive,  the  accumulation  of  re- 
serves which  was  now  available,  thanks  largely  to  the  steady 
inflow  of  American  troops. 

By  July  18,  the  Germans,  in  their  desperate  efforts  to 
win  through  on  the  Champagne-Marne  front,  had  so  com- 


In  the  Shadow  of  Pope  Urban  II  223 

pletely  involved  the  bulk  of  their  forces  in  the  struggle  that 
General  Foch,  with  the  intuition  given  only  to  the  greatest 
commanders,  judged  that  the  moment  for  the  counter-attack 
had  arrived.  It  was  launched  on  the  early  morning  of  the 
eighteenth  on  the  western  face  of  the  Marne  salient,  which 
was  now  virtually  the  enemy's  rear  as  related  to  his  forces 
attacking  between  the  Marne  and  Reims,  and  which  was 
held  by  relatively  feeble  numbers.  The  Allied  effort  was 
instantly,  dazzlingly  successful.  Driving  in  with  the  force 
of  21  divisions,  of  which  the  First,  Second,  Fourth,  and 
Twenty-sixth  American  Divisions  formed  an  important  part, 
supported  by  large  numbers  of  tanks.  General  Degoutte's  and 
General  Mangin's  troops  hurled  themselves  upon  the  12 
divisions  of  von  Boehn's  army  and  penetrated  to  an  average 
depth  of  4  miles  on  the  first  day,  capturing  17,000  prisoners 
and  250  guns.  By  the  evening  of  July  19  the  assailants  were 
nearly  up  to  the  Soissons-Chateau-Thierry  highway  and  so 
closely  threatening  the  railroad  from  Soissons  and  Bazoches 
to  Chateau-Thierry,  the  enemy's  only  rail  communication  into 
the  salient,  that  he  became  seriously  alarmed  for  the  safety 
of  his  forces  on  the  Marne-Reims  front.  In  consequence  of 
the  situation,  he  suspended  his  attacks  on  that  front  and 
attempted  to  break  off  the  action  and  withdraw  from  the 
small  bridgehead  which  he  had  succeeded  in  establishing 
south  of  the  Marne,  between  Villesaint  and  the  Jaulgonne 
bend. 

But  General  Berthelot's  army  and  the  newly  formed 
Ninth  Army  of  General  De  Mitry,  taking  up  the  offensive 
and  extending  it  northeastward  from  Chateau-Thierry, 
pressed  the  Germans  so  hard  that  the  latter  succeeded  only 
with  the  greatest  difficulty  in  escaping  across  the  river,  from 
the  twentieth  to  the  twenty-second  of  July,  in  the  vicinity 


224        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

of  Binson,  and  Dormans;  Passy,  Marcilly,  and  Jaulgonne, 
on  pontoons  and  foot  bridges  which  were  being  torn  to  pieces 
as  they  passed  by  the  raining  shells  of  the  Allied  artillery 
and  the  bombs  of  the  zealous  French  and  American  aviators. 
Relentlessly  pursued,  the  Germans  fell  back  on  the  line  of  the 
Ourcq,  where  they  came  to  a  stand  on  July  27  and  succeeded 
in  holding  until  August  2,  permitting  the  greater  part  of 
their  material  and  trains  to  be  withdrawn  from  the  salient. 
Then  in  severe  fighting  the  Allied  forces,  including  the 
Twenty-eighth,  Thirty-second,  and  Forty-second  American 
Divisions,  finally  broke  through  and  followed  the  enemy 
across  the  uplands  to  the  Vesle,  behind  which,  on  the  formid- 
able hills  north  of  the  river,  the  Germans  came  to  another 
stand  for  a  few  weeks.  On  this  line,  about  August  6,  the 
second  Battle  of  the  Marne  may  be  said  to  have  terminated. 
At  about  the  time  that  the  battle  ended.  Marshal  von 
Hindenberg,  in  a  comfminiqiie  to  the  German  people,  at- 
tempted to  explain  and  justify  the  "strategical  retreat,"  de- 
claring that  "the  decisive  victory"  of  German  arms  had 
merely  been  temporarily  postponed.  It  is  doubtful,  however, 
if  even  his  own  countrymen  were  deceived.  All  the  world 
could  see  that  the  scales  had  begun  to  weigh  in  favor  of  the 
Allies  and  that,  however  long  it  might  take  to  bring  about 
the  final  decision,  the  second  Battle  of  the  Marne  was  the 
beginning  of  the  end  of  the  World  War,  as  truly  as  the  Battle 
of  Gettysburg  had  been  the  beginning  of  the  end  of  the 
American  War  of  the  Rebellion.  For  the  third  time  in  its 
history,  the  Marne  had  proved  the  inexpugnable  bulwark 
of  the  free  nations  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE   REACH    OF   DORMANS 

THERE  is  a  pleasant  expanse  of  valley  land  stretching 
beneath  the  shouldering  Marne  Hills  from  the  escarp- 
ment of  the  Chatillon  eminence  toward  Dormans.  Above  it 
the  vineyards  sweep  up  to  the  sky  line,  the  vine  poles  in 
summer  standing  in  rigid  forests  along  the  slopes,  and  in 
winter  lying  piled  in  neat,  conical  heaps,  so  regularly  spaced 
that  at  a  distance  they  resemble  the  tents  of  an  army.  The 
deep-furrowed  valley  of  the  Semoignes  River  comes  down 
from  the  highlands  of  the  Tardenois  and  terminates  in  the 
Marne  above  Dormans,  and  formerly  from  among  the  vine- 
yards of  its  hillsides  there  looked  down  upon  the  broad  bot- 
tom lands  the  smiling  villages  of  Vandieres-sous-Chatillon  and 
Verneuil  and  Vincelles,  the  hamlet  first  named  lying  cupped 
in  an  amphitheater  of  hills,  watched  over  by  a  white  and 
demure  old  chateau  drowsing  among  the  great  trees  of  its 
park  a  few  hundred  feet  up  the  slopes.  Below  Verneuil  a 
now  demolished  bridge  carried  across  the  Marne  from  Dor- 
mans the  narrow-gauge  railway  which  winds,  with  many  a 
turning,  up  the  valley  of  the  Semoignes  to  Ville-en-Tardenois 
and  thence  to  Fismes,  on  the  Vesle. 

But  the  smile  was  stricken  from  these  little  clusters  of 
human  habitations  during  the  ghastly  midsummer  days  of 
1918,  and  the  receding  tide  of  battle  left  them  mere  heaps 
of  tumbled  masonry  and  shattered  fragments  of  walls.  The 
solidly  built  church  of  Verneuil,  with  its  square  tower  sur- 
mounting the  transept,  became  a  ruin,  gaping  with  shell  holes ; 
the  spire  of  Vincelles,  framed  in  wood,  was  stripped  and 
stricken  sidewise,  like  a  curiously  distorted  skeleton,  its  in- 

225 


226        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

terior  piled  with  broken  stone  and  headless  and  mutilated 
statues.  It  was  along  this  part  of  the  front  that  von  Boehn's 
troops  forced  their  way  across  the  river  in  greatest  numbers 
on  July  15  and  it  was  to  this  segment  that  they  clung  most 
tenaciously  a  week  later,  when,  reeling  backward  at  all  other 
points,  they  maintained  their  hold  upon  some  seven  miles  of 
the  river  bank  between  Reuil  and  Dormans,  in  order,  ap- 
parently, to  keep  the  Paris-Chalons  Railroad,  along  the  south 
bank,  under  fire.  The  Dormans  quadrilateral  of  the  French 
battle  maps,  revised  to  July  17  for  the  counter-offensive, 
showed,  besides  numerous  enemy  trenches,  battery  positions 
and  trails  for  the  use  of  troops  leading  down  to  the  shores 
of  the  river,  all  of  which  had  been  accurately  located  by 
Allied  aeroplane  observers,  a  foot  bridge  just  above  Port-a- 
Binson,  a  foot  bridge  and  a  wagon  bridge  not  far  below 
Vandieres,  a  wagon  bridge  south  of  Verneuil,  two  foot 
bridges  and  three  wagon  bridges  at  Vincelles,  a  foot  bridge 
and  two  wagon  bridges  just  below  Dormans,  and  a  foot  bridge 
below  Treloup.  All  of  these  bridges  had  been  laid  by  the 
Germans  and  used  by  them  in  crossing  to  the  south  bank 
and  many  of  them  were  later  destroyed  by  the  French  artil- 
lery and  bombers.  Nevertheless,  on  such  of  them  as  re- 
mained, the  bulk  of  the  enemy  succeeded  eventually  in  escap- 
ing to  the  north  and  when  the  troops  of  De  Mitry's  army 
crossed,  in  turn  and  on  July  22  established  a  bridge  head  in 
the  bend  between  Dormans  and  Barzy,  they  experienced  des- 
perate fighting  in  gaining  the  wooded  heights  of  the  Forest 
of  Riz,  and  lost  and  regained  Vincelles  village  several  times 
before  finally  taking  it  permanently. 

Over  all  this  land,  as  far  up  stream  as  Reuil-sur-Marne 
and  down  river  to  the  bends  below  Chateau-Thierry,  the 
debris  of  military  occupation  was  thickly  scattered,  especially 


The  Reach  of  Dormans  227 

ammunition.  In  the  summer  of  19 19,  parties  of  French 
engineers  and  German  prisoners  of  war  were  still  busy  on 
all  parts  of  the  battlefields,  gathering  into  heaps  for  salvage 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  empty  shell  cases  and  into  other 
heaps  untold  quantities  of  "duds"  and  unexploded  German 
shells  from  their  abandoned  dumps  and  battery  positions.  The 
German  ammunition  was  assembled  in  spots  remote  from 
buildings  and  in  the  center  of  each  heap  was  placed  a  deton- 
ator, which  was  then  fired  electrically  from  a  distance. 
Nothing  was  more  common  on  the  still,  bright  summer  days 
of  the  once-more  peaceful  countryside  than  to  hear  the  deep 
boom  of  an  explosion  and  to  see  arise  above  the  treetops 
beyond  some  distant,  bare  hillside,  a  billowing  cloud  of  smoke, 
betokening  the  destruction  of  one  more  collection  of  the 
projectiles  whose  deadly  power  has  made  of  modern  war 
a  hell  on  earth  even  more  hideous  than  it  has  been  from  time 
immemorial. 

But  at  Dormans  itself,  formerly  a  place  of  2,500  people, 
closely  hugging  the  south  shore  of  the  river  which  here  runs 
straight  and  smooth,  the  destruction  is  still  more  impressive 
because  more  extensive.  This  ancient  town  before  the  war 
derived  its  chief  commercial  importance  from  the  shipping 
of  cherries  produced  in  the  orchard  district  roundabout  and 
from  the  conversion  of  large  quantities  of  the  fruit  into  pre- 
serves at  several  local  plants.  It  was  also  a  port  of  some 
significance  for  the  shipment,  by  rail  and  canal,  of  the  grapes 
of  the  neighborhood  to  Epernay  or  Reims.  But  Dormans 
was  grievously  damaged  in  the  fighting  and  its  one  long,  wide 
street,  separated  from  the  river  by  the  main  line  and  the  yards 
of  the  Chemin  de  Fer  de  I'Est,  was  left  lined  by  crumbling 
ruins.  A  spacious  and  venerable  chateau  with  a  huge,  me- 
dieval tower  at  one  corner,  which  occupies  a  niche  in  the  hill- 


228        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

side  overlooking  the  town,  was  not  badly  wrecked.  But  the 
fine  old  church,  containing  an  ogival  choir,  a  Romanesque 
window,  and  rows  of  columns  and  capitals  of  the  same  order, 
was  much  disfigured  by  the  German  artillery  fire  from  north 
of  the  river,  though  the  greater  part  of  its  walls  remained 
standing.  This  was  fortunately  true,  also,  of  the  tall  and 
graceful  bell  tower,  with  its  long,  narrow  arched  windows 
on  each  face  through  whose  airy  lattices  the  bells,  hanging 
like  great  flowers  from  the  slender  beams,  may  be  distinctly 
seen,  swung  high  above  the  clustered  roofs  of  the  town. 

It  was  neither  in  19 14  nor  in  19 18  that  the  church  of 
Dormans  first  looked  down  upon  German  invaders.  At  this 
place  on  October  10,  1575,  the  Army  of  the  Catholic  League, 
under  the  impetuous  Duke  Henry  of  Guise,  came  up  with 
the  German  adherents  of  the  Prince  of  Conde  and  defeated 
them  sharply,  "the  hunt,"  so  it  was  said,  lasting  all  that  day 
and  throughout  the  following  night.  Guise  himself,  partici- 
pating hotly  in  the  pursuit,  followed  one  mounted  antagonist, 
whom  he  had  twice  touched  with  his  sword,  until  the  other 
shot  him  twice  with  a  pistol,  one  bullet  taking  effect  in  his 
leg  and  one  carrying  away  his  left  ear  and  part  of  the  cheek, 
thus  earning  for  him  the  nickname  by  which  he  is  known 
in  history,  Henry  the  Scarred  (Le  Balafre). 

In  the  summer  of  1919  the  writer,  coming  into  Dormans 
about  noon  of  a  sunny  day,  drew  up  before  a  small  hostelry, 
the  Hotel  Demoncy,  whose  outer  walls  and  inner  ceilings 
were  pocked  with  shell  splinters  while  the  back  yard  was  a 
litter  of  debris  from  the  outbuildings  in  rear  which  had  been 
knocked  down  in  the  bombardments.  The  good  lady  of  the 
house,  nevertheless,  was  able  to  smile  hospitably  and  to  set  out 
a  savory  luncheon  on  the  table  in  the  small  dining-room, 
upon  whose  cracked  wall  hung  a  bright  lithograph  of  a  vil- 


The  Reach  of  Dormans  229 

lage,  in  whose  church  tower  a  tiny  clock,  keeping  correct 
time,  still  ticked  busily,  as  it  probably  had  done  while  the 
shells  were  falling  around.  Outside  in  the  street  passed  a 
I  long  column  of  German  prisoners  of  war,  guarded  by  leisurely 
poilus,  going  to  their  barracks  from  a  morning's  work  among 
the  ruins,  and  the  sight  of  them  thus  engaged  in  the  work 
of  restoration,  as  well  as  the  cordial  bon  jours  of  their  guards 
to  the  American  visitors,  added  a  zest  to  the  noonday  repast. 

Not  in  Dormans  alone  but  everywhere  in  the  battle  zones 
of  the  Marne,  a  particularly  warm  cordiality  toward  Ameri- 
cans was  evident  on  the  part  of  the  French  people.  Soldiers, 
business  men,  laborers,  women,  and  children,  all  alike,  broke 
into  smiles  and  gestures  of  greeting  at  sight  of  an  American 
car  and  American  uniforms,  once  so  common  in  these  regions 
but  later  grown  so  rare.  On  every  hand  the  soldier  from 
overseas  was  made  to  feel  the  warmth  of  the  regard  in  which 
he  and  his  country  are  held  by  "  the  common  people  "  who 
are  the  body  and  blood  of  France. 

Out  of  Dormans  the  Marne  follows  a  long  southwest- 
ward  stretch  between  the  orcharded  hillsides,  past  Courthiezy 
on  the  left  shore  and  Treloup  and  Courcelles  on  the  right, 
until  it  sweeps  around  northward  into  the  head  of  the  Jaul- 
gonne  bend ;  the  longest  bend  which  we  have  yet  encountered, 
though  much  longer  ones  become  characteristic  of  the  river 
below  Chateau-Thierry.  The  broad,  macadamized  National 
Route  3,  following  the  left  side  of  the  bend  through  Reuilly, 
rambling  Sauvigny,  and  then  Courtemont,  with  the  forest 
masses  of  the  Bois  de  Conde  clothing  the  long  peninsula  of 
heights  between  the  Marne  and  the  Surmelin,  on  the  left, 
looks  down  long  slopes  of  billowing  cherry  branches  to  the 
sparkling  tide  of  the  river  and,  beyond  that,  up  over  other 
reaches  of  similar  foliage,  which  in  springtime  are  seas  of 


230        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

snowy  bloom,  to  the  high,  dark  spurs  of  the  Forest  of  Ris, 
outHned  against  the  eastern  sky. 

From  Courtemont  the  view  is  one  of  rare  beauty,  for 
beyond  the  Marne,  submerged  to  their  eaves  amid  the  orchards 
and  wholly  overshadowed  by  the  forest  walls  beyond,  the 
hamlets  of  Passy,  Rozay,  Marcilly,  and  Barzy,  lie,  like  a 
loosely  strung  necklace  of  coral  beads,  beyond  the  ribbon  of 
the  river.  Through  scores  of  quiet,  uneventful  years  these 
villages  had  drowsed  among  their  fruit  trees,  to  find  them- 
selves at  last  rent  asunder  in  a  brief  but  horrible  nightmare 
of  battle  that  day  when  the  Thirty-sixth  German  Division 
poured  down  the  slopes  and,  crossing  the  river  between 
Courtemont  and  Sauvigny,  pressed  the  One  Hundred  and 
Twenty-fifth  Division  over  the  heights  and  down  into  the 
valley  of  the  Surmelin  at  St.  Agnan  and  Sacconey  and  Dan- 
nejeu  Farm,  where  they  came  in  contact  with  the  unyielding 
opposition  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Ninth  Infantry  of  the 
American  Twenty-eighth  Division.  It  was  at  the  demol- 
ished wagon  bridge  across  the  Marne  between  Passy  and 
Sauvigny  that  there  began  the  action  of  American  troops 
which  the  present  author  described  as  follows  in  the  Stars 
and  Stripes,  the  ofificial  newspaper  of  the  American  Expedi- 
tionary Forces,  in  the  issue  of  January  31,  1919: 

On  the  right,  the  One  Hundred  and  Ninth  Infantry  and  the 
One  Hundred  and  Eighth  Machine-Gun  Battalion  had  a  rough-and- 
tumble  experience  among  the  woods  and  hills  quite  as  exciting  as 
could  ever  have  happened  to  the  ancestors  of  any  of  their  Penn- 
sylvanians  in  the  old  days  when  the  Indians  haunted  the  forests  of 
the  Keystone  State.  The  German  advance  got  across  the  river  at 
Reuilly  and  east  of  there  and  the  front  line  of  the  One  Hundred 
and  Thirteenth  French  Infantry  Regiment  was  compelled  to  re- 
tire, leaving  isolated  Company  M,  One  Hundred  and  Ninth  In- 
fantry, which  was  guarding  the  bridge  across  the  Marne  south  of 
Passy. 


The  Reach  of  Dormans  231 


Nothing  was  heard  of  this  company  for  so  long  that  divisional 
headquarters  feared  it  had  been  annihilated.  But,  on  the  contrary, 
it  was  doing  yeoman  service  by  furnishing  for  some  time  the  only 
solid  resistance  on  this  part  of  the  line  and  delaying  the  German  rush 
by  standing  on  its  original  position  until  flanked  on  both  sides, 
then  falling  back  fighting  to  another  position  in  the  Bois  de  Conde 
and  finally  to  a  third,  500  meters  south  of  the  isolated  woodland 
farm,  La  Grange  aux  Bois,  whence,  at  about  noon,  it  succeeded 
in  getting  word  of  its  continued  existence  back  to  headquarters. 

In  the  meantime,  Colonel  Brown,  with  the  greater  part  of  the 
regiment  and  some  French  detachments,  established  a  line  of  re- 
sistance which  at  4:00  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  lay  approximately 
along  the  original  second  position  from  the  northern  edge  of  the 
Bois  de  Rougis  to  Conde-en-Brie,  with  the  First  Battalion  on  the 
right  and  the  Second  Battalion  on  the  left  and  the  valley  contain- 
ing the  village  of  St.  Agnan  in  front.  Here  the  enemy  was  virtually 
stopped  in  the  edges  of  the  Bois  de  Conde,  to  the  north. 

Left  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Ninth,  the  French  had  established 
a  line  extending  from  Dannejeu  Farm  down  the  Surmelin  through 
Connigis,   north  of   which   village   it  had  liaison  with   the   Thirty- 
eighth   United   States   Infantry  of  the  Third  Division.     The   front 
of  a  good  part  of  these  positions,  botTi  American  and  French,  was 
protected  by  the  fire  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Eighth  Machine-Gun 
Battalion,  near  Dannejeu  Farm,  and  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Ninth 
Machine-Gun  Battalion,   near    St.  Agnan  —  an    assistance    of    the 
most  vital  importance  in  the  temporary  absence  of  artillery  support. 
On  the  morning  of  the  sixteenth,  at  10:00  o'clock,  the  Twentieth 
French  Infantry  Division  having  come  into  the  sector  to  counter- 
attack, the  First  Battalion  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Ninth  Infantry 
under  Major  Gregory,  went  forward  with  it.     But  the  whole  attack 
was  repulsed  in  spite  of  the  fearless  leadership  of  men  like  Second 
Lieutenant   H.   Q.   GriflRn,   who  was  killed  in   front  of  a  German 
machine-gun  emplacement  after  he  had  led  his  platoon  to  the  most 
advanced  point  reached  by  any  detachment,  and  the  work  of  such 
enlisted  men  as  Corporal  J.  J.  Lott,  Company  C,  who  twice  went 
ahead  of  his  platoon,  cut  the  enemy  wire  and  then  returned  and 
guided  the  troops  through  the  gaps  he  had  made. 

Another  assault  delivered  at  6:30  p.  m.  was  likewise  repulsed, 
while  St.  Agnan,  after  having  once  been  retaken  by  the  French, 
was  lost  again  before  night.  After  this,  however,  the  situation 
began   steadily   to   improve,   and   on   the   seventeenth,   the   Twenty- 

16 


232        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

eighth  Division  began  moving  out  of  the  sector  preparatory  to  tak- 
ing its  place  in  the  counter-offensive,  the  One  Hundred  and  Ninth 
Infantry  having  lost  about  780  officers  and  men  during  its  confused 
fighting,  and  the  One  Hundred  and  Eighth  Machine-Gun  Battalion 
more  than  40. 

But  although  the  incident  just  described  was  gallant  in 
the  extreme  and  worthy  of  the  best  traditions  of  our  army, 
it  is  on  turning  the  bend  of  the  road  beyond  Courtemont, 
going  on  a  few  hundred  yards  to  the  ruins  of  Varennes,  and 
then  climbing  the  open  slopes  of  the  hillside  above  the  latter, 
that  one  sees  spread  before  him  the  vast  panorama,  extending 
for  full  15  kilometers  down  the  Marne  and  framed  by  majestic 
billows  of  hills  on  either  hand,  which  was  the  stage  whereon 
America's  warrior  sons  enacted  the  mighty  drama  that  placed 
the  Marne  forever  in  our  history,  and  America  forever  in 
the  most  stirring  traditions  of  the  Marne. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

rut,  ROCK  OF  THE  MARNE 

FROM  the  commanding  eminence  above  Varennes,  men- 
tioned in  the  last  chapter,  the  visitor  to  the  fields  of 
conflict  of  the  Third  United  States  Division  may  scrutinize 
as  upon  a  map  nearly  every  point  at  which  the  men  of  that 
sturdy  organization,  which  now  proudly  styles  itself  "The 
Rock  of  the  Marne,"  hurled  back  from  the  shore  of  the  river 
committed  to  their  keeping,  the  repeated  assaults  of  courag- 
eous and  desperate  foes;  kept  closed  the  road  to  Montmi- 
rail  and  thence  to  Paris,  and  finally  pursued  their  beaten  and 
discomfited  foes  northward  across  the  forested  hills  in  the 
first  stage  of  the  steady  advance  which,  for  the  Third  Divis- 
ion, was  to  end  only  when  its  flag  should  float  majestically 
from  the  walls  of  the  Fortress  of  Ehrenbreitstein,  above  the 
German  Rhine. 

From  the  heights  of  Varennes,  one  looks  down  the  long 
slopes  of  grain  and  grass  land  to  the  roofless  walls  of  the 
hamlet  among  whose  scattered  cottages  on  the  morning  of 
July  15,  19 1 8,  as  the  waves  of  the  German  infantry  came  up 
through  the  valley  mists,  the  left  flank  of  the  One  Hundred 
and  Twenty-fifth  French  Division  was  in  liaison  with  the 
right  of  the  Thirty-eighth  Infantry,  of  the  Third  American 
Division.  Thence  the  eye  crosses  the  level  bottom  land,  inter- 
sected by  the  embankment  of  the  railroad,  to  the  splintered 
southern  abutment  of  the  suspension  bridge  at  Jaulgonne, 
its  fallen  cables  dangling  in  the  water.  Close  beside  it  is  the 
place  where  the  Twenty-eighth  American  Division  laid  the 
pontoon  bridge  on  which  it  crossed  in  pursuit  of  the  enemy. 
Beyond  the  river,  one  looks  over  the  dwellings  of  Jaulgonne 

233 


234        ^^'^  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

and  up  the  hill  slopes  beyond  toward  Le  Charmel,  whence 
the  German  Fifth  Grenadier  Regiment  descended  to  the 
attack. 

Turning  westward,  one  sees  at  the  foot  of  the  slope  on 
which  he  stands,  the  quiet  waters  of  the  Surmelin  joining 
themselves  to  those  of  the  Marne,  and,  a  kilometer  beyond, 
in  the  midst  of  the  wide  bottom  which  is  a  patchwork  of 
open  fields  save  for  rows  of  orchard  trees  or  high-trimmed 
poplars  marking  the  roads,  the  square  church  tower  of  Mezy. 
With  its  cottages  about  it  the  church  of  Mezy  lies  huddled 
between  the  railroad  and  the  naked  river  bank,  just  as  it  lay 
on  the  morning  of  July  15  when  a  platoon  of  the  Thirtieth 
United  States  Infantry  fought  to  virtual  extinction  in  the 
village  streets  and  behind  the  railroad  grade  against  the  Sixth 
Grenadiers,  who  had  forced  a  pontoon  bridge  over  the  river 
between  Mezy  and  Charteves. 

South  of  Mezy  and  2  kilometers  distant  from  it  up  gently 
rolling  slopes  of  grain  fields,  stretches  the  white  filament  of 
the  Paris-Metz  road,  embroidered  with  tapering  poplars. 
Behind  it,  where  it  climbs  up  from  the  Surmelin  and  then 
drops  again  down  the  slope  on  the  other  side  into  Fossoy, 
hidden  in  patches  of  woodland  above  the  Marne,  stood  the 
battle  line  of  the  Seventh  and  Thirtieth  Infantry  Regiments, 
thin,  but  not  to  be  shaken;  a  line  of  young  soldiers,  fighting 
their  first  great  battle  like  heroes. 

Northward  across  the  Marne,  at  the  foot  of  the  steep, 
orcharded  hills  running  back  to  the  Forest  of  Fere,  rises 
Charteves,  white-walled  beneath  its  riven  church  tower  and 
'beyond  it,  across  the  ravine  of  the  Mont  I'Eveque  rivulet, 
Mont  St.  Pere,  clinging  to  the  rugged  slopes  which  even  the 
blasts  of  war  have  not  deprived  of  all  their  wealth  of  bend- 
ing fruit  trees  and  trellised  vines.     Farther  still  to  the  west. 


Charteves,  white-walled  beneath  its  riven  church  tower 

[Page  234] 


^•r- 


Charteves.     Two-man  rifle  pit  in  foreground 


[Page  237] 


The  Rock   of  the  Marne  235 

holding  the  swinging  bend  of  the  Marne  in  an  amphitheater 
of  heights,  the  hills  of  the  right  shore  sweep  around,  reveal- 
ing the  clustered  houses  of  Gland  at  the  base  of  the  promon- 
tory where  the  river  turns  again,  but  concealing  Brasles 
among  its  wheat  fields  and  the  more  distant  mass  of  Chateau- 
Thierry.  Far  beyond  the  latter,  however,  on  another  long 
river  bend,  Essomes  and  Aulnois  and  Rouvroy  paint  mere 
flecks  of  color  against  the  hill  of  the  Bois  des  Loup,  blue  and 
shimmering;:  in  the  distance. 

If  one  withdraw  his  glance  once  more  to  the  vale  of  the 
Surmelin  he  sees,  almost  at  his  feet,  the  considerable  town  of 
Crezancy  outspread  upon  the  farther  side  of  the  small  valley 
and  beyond  it  the  dark  green  spurs  of  the  Bois  d'Aigremont 
thrusting  down  the  long  slopes  between  that  place  and  Fos- 
soy,  beyond  which  the  roofs  of  Blesmes  and  Chierry  lend 
varied  color  to  the  verdure  of  the  Marne  lowlands.  Smiling 
beneath  the  sunshine  of  summer  and  dappled  by  the  shadows 
of  the  passing  clouds,  the  whole  far-reaching  picture,  blent 
of  the  elements  of  bounteous  nature  and  the  toil  of  human 
hands,  is  as  fair  a  one  as  the  Marne  may  show  between  Sabi- 
nus'  cave  and  the  walls  of  Paris.  Yet  the  sequestered  villages 
of  this  little  Arcady  were  riddled  by  the  tempest  of  war,  its 
flower-starred  fields  plowed  with  shells  and  its  orchards  and 
vineyards  lopped  of  their  verdure,  while,  in  the  very  first 
weeks  of  the  conflict,  its  gentle  and  industrious  people  suf- 
fered outrages  too  horrible  for  words  to  describe.  It  will 
suffice  to  quote  a  bald  statement  concerning  a  few  of  them 
from  a  volume  called  The  German  Terror  in  France,  by 
Arnold  J.  Toynbee,  in  which  every  incident  related  was 
amply  authenticated  by  the  reports  of  the  French  Govern- 
ment Commission  appointed  to  investigate  alleged  violations 
by  the  Germans  of  the  usages  of  civilized  warfare. 


236        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

At  Charmel,  the  Germans,  arriving  on  September  3,  pillaged  the 
houses  and  cellars  and  burned  a  chateau.  A  woman  was  violated 
by  a  soldier.  "  He  stretched  me  on  a  table,"  she  states,  "  and 
gripped  me  by  the  throat."  At  Jaulgonne  on  the  same  date,  the 
Prussian  Guard  pillaged  property  worth  about  250,000  francs  and 
killed  two  civilians  —  one  87  and  the  other  61  years  old.  The  for- 
mer was  found  lying  shot  in  a  field;  the  second  was  seen  by  the 
Germans  talking  to  a  French  soldier  (who  escaped),  and  was 
seized  as  a  hostage  —  he  was  killed  next  morning.  "  One  of  the 
Germans,"  states  a  witness,  "  gave  him  a  bayonet  stroke  in  the 
side.  There  was  a  dreadful  rattling  in  his  throat  and  they  finished 
him  off  with  a  revolver-shot  in  the  forehead."  ....  On  Septem- 
ber 3,  the  Germans  also  entered  Varennes.  "  We  were  received 
with  a  heavy  fire,"  states  one  of  the  diarists  quoted  above,  who  had 
marched  thither  from  Noyon.  "  It  has  cost  the  battalion  four  dead 
and  several  wounded.  Corpses  are  lying  about  everywhere  in  the 
street September  6,  the  village  is  set  on  fire,  because  civi- 
lians have  joined  in  the  shooting." 

Crossing  the  Marne,  von  Billow's  troops  murdered,  at  Mezy- 
Moulins,  an  old  man  of  y2.  At  Crezancy  they  pillaged  a  chateau 
—  the  damage  was  estimated  by  an  expert  at  123,844  francs.  The 
owner  was  not  present — fortunately  for  himself,  for  a  shopkeeper 
at  Crezancy,  who  protested  against  the  looting  of  his  shop,  was 
driven  off,  blindfolded  and  stumbling,  but  urged  on  by  blows  and 
bayonet  thrusts,  to  Charly,  where  he  was  shot.  Another  inhabitant 
of  Crezancy  was  also  taken  to  Charly  and  killed.  "  He  had  a  lance- 
thrust  or  bayonet-thrust  near  the  heart."  Another,  a  young  man 
of  18,  was  dragged  out  of  a  house  and  shot  on  September  3,  the 
day  the  Germans  arrived.  After  the  murder,  the  German  officer 
inquired  whether  the  victim  was  a  soldier  and  remarked,  on  learn- 
ing that  he  was  not :  "  Well,  he  might  have  become  one,  anyway." 
At  Connigis  (the  town  on  the  Surmelin  above  Crezancy),  the  Ger- 
mans murdered  a  man  and  violated  a  girl  in  the  presence  of  her 
mother-in-law,  taking  it  in  turns  to  keep  her  father-in-law  at  a 
distance  —  her  husband  was  with  the  colors. 

Warned  by  such  a  hideous  lesson  of  what  they  had  to 
expect  from  the  Germans,  when  the  hordes  of  the  kaiser 
again  poured  southward  in  May,  19 18,  the  inhabitants  of 
the  valley  nearly  all  fled,  leaving  the  country  deserted.  From 


The  Rock  of  the  Marne  237 

Jaulgonne  to  Chateau-Thierry  the  enemy  early  occupied  the 
northern  bank  of  the  Marne;  the  southern  shore  remained  in 
the  hands  of  the  hardy  doughboys  of  the  Third  Division.  On 
July  15  came  the  German  Friedensturm.  Of  the  ensuing 
struggle  the  writer  said  in  the  Independent  (May  29,  1920)  : 

General  Dickman's  Third  Division,  because  it  alone  was  occupy- 
ing the  front  line  of  its  sector,  east  of  Chateau-Thierry,  bore  a 
conspicuous  part  in  the  repulse  of  the  great  German  offensive.  At 
dawn  on  July  15,  the  masses  of  German  infantry  came  pouring 
down  from  the  lofty  hills  which  from  the  north  dominate  the  low- 
lands within  the  bend  of  the  Marne  west  of  the  river  Surmelin. 
Owing  to  the  great  breadth  of  the  sector,  over  ten  kilometers,  the 
four  regiments  of  the  Third  Division  were  all  in  line,  the  Fourth 
Infantry  on  the  left,  then  in  order,  the  Seventh,  the  Thirtieth  and 
the  Thirty-eighth.  The  attack  fell  entirely  on  the  last  three  regi- 
ments. Vigorously  supported  by  the  fire  of  the  American  and 
French  artillery  stationed  farther  back,  even  the  outpost  detach- 
ments of  the  Seventh,  Thirtieth  and  Thirty-eighth  Regiments,  com- 
manded respectively  by  Colonels  T.  M.  Anderson,  E.  L.  Butts,  and 
U.  S.  McAlexander,  refused  to  retire  from  the  river  bank  and 
with  their  rifles  and  machine-guns  drove  back  the  boats  and  pon- 
toons in  which  the  Germans  sought  to  cross. 

At  only  two  points  on  the  left  and  center  did  the  enemy  succeed 
in  getting  over.  The  small  detachment  which  crossed  near  Fossoy 
was  destroyed  by  soldiers  of  the  right  of  the  Seventh  Infantry 
and  the  left  of  the  Thirtieth  Infantry.  A  larger  body,  amounting 
altogether  to  more  than  a  regiment,  which  came  over  from  Char- 
teves,  was  met  at  Mezy  and  along  the  grade  of  the  Metz-Paris 
Railroad  by  an  advanced  platoon  of  the  Thirtieth  Infantry,  which, 
scorning  to  surrender  or  even  to  give  ground,  fought  until  it  was 
practically  exterminated,  after  having  inflicted  far  greater  losses 
upon  its  assailants.  The  Germans  who  passed  Mezy  and  pushed  on 
south  toward  the  highway  between  Chateau-Thierry  and  Crezancy, 
on  the  Surmelin,  were  met  and  repulsed  north  of  the  road  by 
detachments  of  the  Seventh  and  Thirtieth  Infantry  under  Major 
Ditto  and  Major  Paschal.  By  8:00  a.  m.  the  fight  on  the  left  and 
center  had  virtually  ended  in  our  victory. 

On  the  right,  however,  the  Thirty-eighth  Infantry  had  a  longer, 
if  not  a  harder,  struggle.     In  the  hilly,  wooded  country  east  of 


238         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

the  Surmelin  the  One  Hundred  and  Twenty-fifth  French  Division 
fell  back  when  the  Germans  crossed  the  river.  This  exposed  the 
right  flank  of  Colonel  McAlexander's  regiment,  but  instead  of  re- 
tiring from  the  Marne  the  flank  was  merely  swung  around  facing 
east  and  extended  down  the  Surmelin  by  reserve  companies  so  as 
to  stop  the  attack  in  that  direction.  Along  the  Marne  at  the  foot 
of  the  Jaulgonne  Bend,  Major  Rowe's  battalion  broke  the  attempts 
of  the  Germans  to  cross  and,  though  surrounded  on  three  sides. 
Major  Rowe  cheerfully  sent  back  word  to  headquarters  that  his 
men  were  holding  the  line  and  could  do  so  indefinitely.  They 
did  hold  it  for  five  days,  until  the  enemy  retired  from  the  hills 
east  of  them. 

A  few  words  from  a  graphic  account  of  his  experiences 
in  the  battle,  by  First  Lieutenant  Kurt  Hesse,  of  the  Fifth 
Regiment  of  German  Grenadiers,  translated  by  Major  Gen- 
eral Dickman,  indicates  more  convincingly  than  any  com- 
ments from  our  own  side  the  terrible  effectiveness  of  the  fire 
delivered  by  the  Third  Artillery  Brigade,  Third  Division, 
under  command  of  General  William  M.  Cruikshank.  Hav- 
ing learned  beforehand  when  the  enemy  was  to  begin  the 
battle,  the  American  batteries  opened  counter-preparation  ten 
minutes  before  the  German  preliminary  bombardment  was 
to  commence.     Lieutenant  Hesse  says: 

Is  it  never  going  to  commence?  We  were  dozing.  At  last! 
A  fierce  artillery  fire  begins.  I  looked  at  my  watch.  One  o'clock 
in  the  morning.  Had  our  artillery  made  a  mistake?  Firing  was 
not  to  begin  till  i  :io  a.  m.  I  jump  out  of  the  hole  in  which  I 
was  sitting  —  and  as  quickly  jumped  back.  In  front  and  rear  I 
hear  the  strike  of  projectiles.  The  enemy  had  commenced!  Ten 
minutes  later  our  artillery  fire  began,  not  simultaneously  as  ordered, 
but  here  and  there,  and  rose  for  ten  minutes  to  powerful  strength, 
so  that  we  had  the  hope  that  now  all  would  be  well.  Then  it  grew 
weaker  and  weaker,  and  often  the  enemy's  artillery  fire  was  more 
powerful  than  our  own.  In  a  short  time  all  telephone  connections 
forward  and  to  the   rear  were  destroyed 

....  After  hours  of  waiting  we  received  a  more  detailed  re- 
port as  follows :    "  The  First  Battalion,  which  was  to  attack  on  the 


The  Rock  of  the  Marne  239 


right,  was  caught  by  a  fearful  artillery  fire  in  the  narrow  lane 
leading  down  to  the  river.  Only  parts  of  the  battalion  reached  the 
river.  The  pioneers  failed.  The  pontoons  remained  on  the  ground, 
several  hundred  yards  from  the  Marne;  crossing  at  this  point  is 
impossible,  because  strong  enemy  infantry  forces  with  numerous 
machine-guns  are  making  a  stubborn  defense  of  the  opposite 
bank.".  .  .  . 

The  infantry  lying  without  cover  in  the  great  Jaulgonne  Forest, 
where  the  brush  is  so  thick  that  it  is  impossible  to  get  through, 
and  where,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  scarcely  a  tree  thick  enough 
to  afford  protection  against  a  rifle  bullet.  There  the  projectiles 
of  the  enemy's  massed  artillery  are  falling.  Not  a  spot  is  spared. 
The  place  is  under  the  continued  fire  of  a  heavy  battery.  The 
explosions  in  the  forest  are  frightful,  nerve-wracking.  The  clear- 
ing near  by  comes  under  the  fire  of  a  light  battery  every  five 
minutes,  and  in  a  little  while  is  black  with  corpses.  And  the  nar- 
row lane  to  the  right  is  swept  by  shrapnels  pursuing  their  fiery 
course  like  comets.  The  men  run  about  madly,  looking  for  cover. 
And  again  there  are  rushing  sounds  with  dull  reports :  "  Gas  shells  ! 
Put  on  your  masks!"  We  already  could  not  see  anything  —  now 
surely  not.  Gloomy  despair  overpowers  many.  They  feel  helpless, 
praying  for  daylight.  The  wounded  cry  out.  Finally  a  hoarse 
command  is  uttered  by  a  company  commander  who  even  now  re- 
alizes his  duty:  "Fall  in!  Has  everybody  got  a  rifle?"  Then 
we  advance  in  the  narrow  lanes,  so  terribly  stricken,  but  which  are 
the  only  ways  leading  to  the  river.  The  pioneers  are  in  position 
a  little  distance  lower  down.  Their  leader  is  helpless.  He  has 
only  a  few  men  left.  The  infantry  itself  takes  hold  to  drag  the 
pontoons  the  remaining  200  meters  down  to  the  river 

Eventually  what  was  left  of  Lieutenant  Hesse's  regiment 
got  across  the  river,  only  to  be  forced  to  withdraw  again 
three  days  later,  sacrificing,  as  he  said,  "the  last  of  the  old 
fellows  of  19 14"  in  the  retreat.  But  it  was  on  the  north 
bank  of  the  Marne  that  they  had  really  been  defeated,  in  the 
first  hours  of  the  attack.     He  continues: 

Never  have  I  seen  so  many  dead  men,  ne/er  such  frightful 
battle  scenes.  The  Americans,  lying  in  a  grain  field  in  a  semicircle, 
allowed  two  companies  to  approach  within  thirty  to  fifty  paces  and 


240        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

then  shot  practically  all  of  them  down  in  heaps.  This  enemy  had 
nerve;  we  must  give  him  credit  for  that;  but  he  also  displayed 
a  savage  roughness.  "  The  Americans  kill  everybody ! "  was  the 
cry  of  terror  of  July  15,  which  for  a  long  time  stuck  in  the  bones 
of  our  men.  In  our  home  country  people  joked  about  the  deficient 
instruction  of  this  enemy,  about  "American  bluff,"  and  other  things. 
There  is  the  principal  responsibility  for  the  fact  that  of  the  troops 
led  into  action  on  July  15,  more  than  60  per  cent  were  left  dead 
or  wounded,  lying  on  the  field  of  battle. 

The  Battle  of  the  "Marne  Division"  was  one  of  the 
finest  examples  on  record  of  American  tenacity  in  defense 
and,  later,  of  American  initiative  in  attack.  When  General 
Dickman's  troops  were  reheved  by  the  Thirty-second  Ameri- 
can Division  on  the  night  of  July  29,  they  had  suffered  5,986 
casualties  but  were  already  standing  on  the  southern  bank  of 
the  Ourcq,  10  kilometers  north  of  Charteves. 

Before  the  war,  the  little  center  of  this  secluded  valley 
was  Crezancy,  where  there  existed  a  factory  for  the  purpose, 
peculiar  considering  its  location,  of  manufacturing  buttons 
from  the  seeds  of  palm  trees,  or  "vegetable  ivory."  Besides 
this  industry  there  were  located  close  to  the  town  in  the 
Surmelin  Valley,  an  agricultural  school  of  repute,  and  the 
vine  nurseries  of  the  Department  of  the  Marne.  The  town 
is  served  by  the  railway  coming  down  the  Dhuis  River  and 
the  Surmelin  from  Montmirail  and  Conde,  which  line  joins 
the  Paris-Metz  trunk  line  at  Mezy,  thus  rendering  the  latter 
a  rather  important  junction  in  ordinary  times. 

The  church  of  Mezy,  so  conspicuous  an  object  on  the 
battle  field  of  the  Third  Division,  was  already  badly  in  need 
of  restoration  before  the  war,  when  it  was  described  as  "an 
exquisite  work  of  the  twelfth  century  with  buttresses  orna- 
mented with  medallions,  high  ogival  windows  in  the  choir 
and,  in  the  interior,  an  elegant  triforium  and  columns."  Not 


The  Rock  of  the  Marne  241 

less  attractive  in  the  distance  across  the  Marne,  at  the  entrance 
to  the  ravine  of  the  Ru  de  Mont-l'Eveque,  are  the  two  Httle 
centers,  Charteves  and  Mont  St.  Pere,  hfting  each  a  church 
tower  on  the  flanks  of  the  hills.  All  the  country  contrasts 
with  the  high  plateaus  by  reason  of  the  freshness  of  its 
scenery;  the  great  riverside  prairies  bordering  the  Marne, 
the  slopes  carpeted  with  vines  and  fruit  trees  and  the  white 
villages  emerging  from  the  intense  verdure. 

In  the  high  plateau  toward  Montmirail,  thinly  peopled  and 
heavily  wooded,  wherein  the  Dhuis  and  other  small  rivers 
have  their  uncontaminated  sources,  begins  the  huge  Aque- 
duct of  the  Dhuis,  which  from  this  virgin  country  conveys 
into  Paris  the  greater  part  of  the  city's  water  supply.  In  its 
course  the  aqueduct  descends  the  Surmelin  Valley  nearly  to 
Crezancy  and  then  makes  a  sharp  bend  westward  toward 
Fossoy,  passing,  for  a  few  hundred  feet,  beyond  the  high- 
road on  which  the  Seventh  United  States  Infantry  made  its 
stand  on  July  15.  It  is  interesting  to  speculate  upon  how 
much  suffering  and  damage  far-away  Paris  might  have 
experienced  had  the  enemy  been  able  to  wrest  from  the  hands 
of  the  Americans  a  section  of  the  aqueduct  for  a  long  enough 
period  to  have  enabled  him  to  cut  it  and  thus  break  the  water 
supply  of  the  metropolis. 

The  valley  between  Jaulgonne  and  Chateau-Thierry  has 
not,  in  past  times,  lacked  devotees  to  celebrate  its  charms, 
either  in  literature  or  art.  At  Mont  St.  Pere,  poised  at  the 
head  of  its  moss-grown  steps  above  the  river,  lived  and 
worked  Lhermitte,  the  rustic  but  powerful  artist  of  Cham- 
pagne, finding  inspiration  for  his  brush  in  the  rural  scenery 
on  every  side.  Here,  also,  La  Fontaine,  native  and,  as  a 
young  man,  resident,  of  Chateau-Thierry,  found  the  setting 
for  many  of  his  immortal  Fables,  not  least  among  them  the 


242         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

Fable  of  the  Fox  and  the  Grapes.  But  it  is  in  Chateau-Thierry 
itself,  eloquent  with  traditions  of  him  as  well  as  of  others 
as  greatly  distinguished,  that  one  comes  upon  the  personal 
glamour  of  La  Fontaine,  eccentric  child  of  the  Marne. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

WHERE   DWELT   THE   SLUGGARD    KINGS 

AT  Chateau-Thierry,  which,  from  Blesmes  and  Chierry, 
the  traveler  comes  at  by  the  Paris  road  passing  through 
the  southern  suburbs  and  across  two  bridges  into  the  main 
part  of  the  city,  the  flavor  of  romance  in  pre-war  days  must 
have  been  mainly  supplied  by  legends  of  Jean  de  la  Fon- 
taine and  Charles  Martel,  two  widely  diverse  characters, 
truly.  To  these  legends,  in  future  generations,  will  be  added 
another  group,  those  of  les  Americains.  The  three  facts  are 
obvious,  immediately  one  enters  the  city.  At  the  northern 
end  of  the  last  bridge,  facing  west  along  the  broad  boule- 
vard which  borders  the  right  bank  of  the  Marne,  stands 
a  statue,  by  Laitie,  of  the  great  fabulist;  chipped  by  German 
and  American  machine-gun  bullets  and  with  the  left  leg 
broken  by  a  shell  splinter,  but  still  intact  in  the  main.  Set 
in  the  pavement  almost  at  La  Fontaine's  feet  is  a  square  stone 
tablet  on  which  are  chiseled  the  words :  "  Dedicated  to  the 
3rd  Division,  U.  S.  A.,  Aug.  9,  1919."  This  tablet,  placed 
on  the  date  mentioned  by  representatives  of  the  "  Marne 
Division,"  indicates  the  first  step  in  the  construction  of  the 
monumental  bridge  across  the  Marne  which  that  division 
intends  eventually  to  erect  as  its  own  memorial  in  France 
and,  at  the  same  time,  as  a  gift  to  the  city  of  Chateau-Thierry 
to  replace  the  bridge,  built  in  1768,  which  was  blown  up  by 
the  Americans  on  the  night  of  June  i,  19 18,  to  prevent  the 
Germans  from  crossing  the  river.  Finally,  if  one  stand 
beside  the  tablet  and  look  up  the  street  formerly  called  the 
Rue  de  Pont  but  now  the  Rue  du  Mareschal  Retain,  which, 
narrow  and  walled  by  high  buildings,  leads  northward  from 

243 


244        ^^^  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

the  bridge  into  the  Place  du  Marche,  he  sees,  towering  up 
beyond  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  a  steep  hill  slope  crowned  by 
decayed  but  massive  walls.  These  are  the  remains  of  the 
once  mighty  Chateau  of  the  "  Sluggard  King,"  Thierry  iv  of 
Neustria,  built  for  him  in  720  a.  d.  by  his  all-powerful  Mayor 
of  the  Palace,  Charles  Martel,  who  saved  Europe  to  Chris- 
tianity by  his  defeat  of  the  Saracens  at  Tours  in  732  and 
who  united  France  and  left  it  to  become  the  greatest  nation 
of  earth  under  the  genius  of  his  grandson,  Charlemagne. 

Thus,  standing  at  one  spot  in  this  quaint  city  whose  very 
center  is  traversed  by  the  lucid  current  of  the  Marne,  one 
may  reflect  upon  a  panorama  of  events  covering  twelve  cen- 
turies and  profoundly  affecting  the  whole  course  of  civiliza- 
tion; the  rise  of  France  to  greatness  and  power,  the  emi- 
nence of  its  intellectual  estate,  and  its  recent  salvation  from 
submergence  by  a  spurious  kultur. 

But  the  physical  aspects  of  the  city,  with  which  we  are 
chiefly  concerned,  are  most  agreeably  revealed  from  the 
elevated  ramparts  of  the  ancient  chateau,  beneath  which  roll 
away  to  west,  south,  and  east  the  closely  built  streets  and  the 
wide  stretches  of  countryside,  rich  in  associations,  whose 
every  vista  is  enlivened  by  the  ample  bends  of  the  Marne.  At 
mid-height  of  the  hillside  a  road,  leading  round  through  a 
quarter  of  the  city  which  is  very  quiet  and  very  medieval  in 
aspect,  comes  curving  presently  to  the  chateau  gateway.  Its 
low,  deep  arch,  pierced  between  the  ponderous  octagonal 
towers  of  the  barbican,  gives  access  to  the  long,  narrow 
interior  court  which  was  formerly  occupied  by  the  crowded 
structures  of  the  citadel,  but  is  now  given  over  to  a  park 
whose  drives  and  pathways  wind  between  large,  dense  trees. 

The  chateau  was  a  place  of  almost  impregnable  strength 
before  the  introduction  of  artillery,  but  it  was  besieged  and 


.  VP^vii- 


Chateau-Thierry  itself,  eloquent  with  traditions 


[Page  S4S] 


Hill  204,  looking  toward  Chateau-Thierry 


[Page  248] 


A  street  in  Chateau-Thierry 


[Page  243] 


Where  Dwelt  the  Sluggard  Kings  245 

captured  by  the  English  in  1421  and  again  in  1544  by  the 
Germans  of  Charles  v.  Standing  at  the  southeastern  side  of 
its  razed  and  moss-grown  battlements  one  looks  across  the 
wheat  fields  to  the  white  walls  of  Brasles,  nestled  at  the  foot 
of  the  towering  Bois  de  Barbillon  Hill,  and  across  the  Marne 
by  Chierry  and  Blesmes  to  the  fair  downs  and  woodlands 
beloved  of  La  Fontaine.  One  may  fancy  the  writer,  as  a  boy, 
wandering  over  the  precincts  of  the  deserted  chateau,  in  his 
day  still  covered  with  a  maze  of  ruined  halls  and  passage- 
ways, and  from  the  decaying  battlements  peopling  the  distant 
countryside  with  the  odd  creatures,  half  brute  and  half 
human,  of  his  awakening  imagination. 

Walking  on  to  the  southern  side  of  the  height,  at  the  head 
of  the  long  flight  of  steps  which  ascends  from  the  Place  de 
la  Hotel  de  Ville,  one  contemplates  a  scene  which  rouses 
thoughts  more  stirring  than  pensive.  Far  across  the  Marne, 
where  the  hills  rise  beyond  Nesles,  there  runs  between 
checkerboard  fragments  of  woodland  the  straight  road  to 
Fontenelle  and  Montmirail.  Over  that  road,  in  the  chill 
dusk  of  the  evening  of  February  11,  1814,  a  watcher  on  the 
chateau  would  have  seen  a  terrified  mass  of  fugitives,  the 
Russians  of  Sacken  and  the  Prussians  of  d'York,  encumbered 
with  wagons  and  artillery,  pouring  northward  from  the  bat- 
tlefield of  Montmirail  toward  the  bridges  of  Chateau- 
Thierry,  pursued  and  belabored  by  the  exultant  cuirassiers  of 
Napoleon.  As  the  darkness  deepened,  he  would  have  seen  the 
demoralized  fugitives,  or  such  of  them  as  had  not  been  slain 
or  captured  by  the  French,  spreading  through  the  streets  of 
the  unfortunate  city  and,  stung  by  defeat  and  the  lust  for 
vengeance,  giving  themselves  over  to  pillage  and  every  species 
of  outrage  upon  the  citizens.  Then,  as  the  dawn  of  the 
twelfth  broke  after  the  fearful  night,  he  would  have  seen 


246         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

the  24  squadrons  of  Prussian  horse  under  General  Horn,  as 
yet  unscathed  in  the  battle,  maneuver  into  position  on  the 
open  grounds  south  of  the  city  for  the  purpose  of  stopping 
the  French  pursuit;  he  would  have  seen  the  dark  columns 
of  Ney's  cavalry  corps  swing  into  position  on  the  slopes 
beyond  and  then,  charging  in  clouds  of  dust  and  with  thun- 
der of  hoofs,  under  the  eye  of  the  emperor  himself  sweep 
the  hapless  foe  from  their  path  and  gallop  on  into  Chateau- 
Thierry,  greeted  before  they  could  gain  its  streets  by  throngs 
of  men  and  women  and  children  pouring  forth  to  welcome 
their  deliverers.  He  would  have  seen  these  civilians  working 
furiously  to  repair  the  Marne  bridge  for  the  pursuing  French 
cavalry  and  also,  alas!  he  would  have  seen  many  of  them, 
goaded  to  frenzy  by  the  horrors  of  the  preceding  night,  slay- 
ing without  mercy  the  scattered  wounded  and  prisoners  of 
the  enemy  as  the  latter  fled  northward  into  the  hills  of  Orxois. 
From  the  same  battlements  on  September  2,  19 14,  the 
observer  would  have  looked  down  upon  other  German  hosts 
swarming  o^er  the  surrounding  hills,  but  now  advancing  and 
encircling  the  town.  At  about  5  :oo  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
the  field-gray  uniforms  would  have  been  noted  filtering  into 
the  streets  from  the  west,  along  the  Paris  and  the  Essomes 
roads,  while  the  French  rear  guards,  firing  sullenly,  fell  back 
southward.  Next  day  Chateau-Thierry  would  again  have 
been  disclosed,  writhing  under  the  hands  of  pillagers  no  less 
brutal  than  their  ancestors  of  a  century  before.  Then  would 
have  been  seen,  in  the  words  of  the  acting  mayor  as  quoted 
by  Mr.  Toynbee: 

Chateau-Thierry  completely  pillaged.  The  work  was  done  under 
the  officers'  eyes  and  the  loot  was  carried  away  in  wagons.  Ger- 
man prisoners  have  been  found  in  possession  of  jewels,  stolen  here, 
and  articles  of  clothing,  obtained  from  the  plunder  of  the  shops, 


Where  Dwelt  the  Sluggard  Kings  247 

have  likewise  been  found  among  the  effects  of  German  doctors 
who  remained  behind  at  Chateau-Thierry  when  their  army  left  — 
and  this  at  the  moment  when  these  doctors  were  being  exchanged. 

These  conditions  obtained  until  the  ninth  of  September, 
when  the  invaders  again,  as  always,  recoiled  from  their  im- 
placable foe,  the  Marne,  pursued  by  the  French  and  the 
British. 

But  Chateau-Thierry  and  the  castle  which  watches  the  cen- 
turies flow  by  like  leaves  upon  the  bosom  of  the  guardian 
river,  still  had  to  look  once  more — and  may  it  have  been  the 
last  time  forever!  —  upon  the  faces  of  the  enemies  from 
beyond  the  Rhine.  It  was  on  the  last  day  of  May  in  19 18 
that  the  hated  field-gray  uniforms  again  came  creeping  down 
the  hillsides  and  into  the  streets.  But  now,  beside  their 
French  antagonists  of  immemorial  years,  there  stood  to  wel- 
come them  among  the  houses  and  along  the  shores  of  the 
Marne,  a  new  foe;  one  which  neither  Charles  Martel  nor 
Charles  v  nor  even  Napoleon  would  have  dreamed  to  see 
battling  on  the  soil  of  Europe.  And  when,  beneath  the  shells 
of  Allied  and  German  artillery  which  crossed  above  the  roofs 
and  crashed  with  shattering  detonations  into  the  narrow 
streets,  there  vibrated  the  rat-tat-tat  of  the  guns  of  the  Amer- 
ican Seventh  Machine-Gun  Battalion,  the  Germans  knew  that 
behind  the  moat  of  the  Marne  the  New  World,  too,  was  at 
bay  in  the  name  of  civilization.  For  five  long  days  they 
fought  there,  French  poilus  and  Yankee  doughboys  behind 
mined  walls  and  splintered  trees  and  in  hastily  dug  pits  along 
the  waterside,  doggedly  clinging  to  the  positions  they  had 
been  ordered  to  hold  against  the  withering  fire  and  oft-re- 
peated attacks  of  men  who  hesitated  at  no  eiifort  or  sacrifice  to 
win  their  way  across  the  narrow  river  which  alone  barred 
them   from  victory.     By  that  time  the  Allied  artillery  and 

17 


248         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

infantry  were  firmly  established  on  the  hills  to  the  south- 
ward, from  which  they  were  never  to  move  until  they  moved 
forward  in  pursuit  of  the  finally  beaten  foe. 

It  is  from  the  western  summit  of  the  chateau  hill,  looking 
between  the  tree  branches  and  past  the  rough-hewn  tower  of 
St.  Crepin's  Church,  rising  like  a  huge  Druid's  stone  above 
the  jumble  of  roofs  almost  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  that  the 
panorama  reaches  out  over  heaving  crest  and  valley  and  knots 
of  woodland  blasted  here  and  there  by  shell  fire,  to  other 
fields  which  are  now  immortalized  for  Americans.  Hill  204, 
its  slopes  mounting  up  from  the  Marne  at  the  southwestern 
edge  of  the  city,  is  conspicuous  in  the  nearer  distance,  with 
the  shapeless  ruins  of  Vaux  just  beyond  it.  These  were 
places  for  which  the  Germans  fought  furiously  throughout 
the  June  and  early  July  of  the  war,  to  finally  lose  the  village 
to  the  Ninth  United  States  Infantry,  Second  Division,  and 
the  hill  to  the  Tenth  French  Colonial  and  Third  American 
Divisions. 

Northwest  and  farther  away,  just  beyond  the  depression 
of  the  Gobert  Creek,  is  the  curving,  dark  outline  of  the 
famous  Bois  de  Belleau,  called  now  by  the  French  the  Bois 
de  la  Brigade  de  Marine,  from  which,  in  stubborn  fighting 
throughout  the  month  of  June,  19 18,  the  gallant  marines  and 
infantrymen  of  the  Second  American  Division  forced  the 
Germans  foot  by  foot  down  into  the  creek  valley.  Within 
the  latter,  just  hidden  from  view  by  intervening  hills,  are  the 
villages  of  Bouresches  and  Belleau  and  Torcy  and  those  pop- 
pied wheat  fields  over  which  the  men  of  the  "Yankee  Divis- 
ion" charged  to  victory  on  the  misty  morning  of  July  18. 
And  there,  also,  a  bright  flash  of  color  against  the  verdure 
of  the  renowned  woods,  are  visible  on  a  clear  day  the  folds 
of  Old  Glory,  floating  above  the  white  rows  of  crosses  of 


A  "dug-out"  and  listening  post  in  the  famous  liois  de  Bellcau 

[Page  248] 


Where  Divelt  the  Sluggard  Kings  249 

the  Belleau  Wood  cemetery,  where  rest  the  remains  of  3,600 
Americans  killed  in  the  fighting  in  that  region  of  battles. 

Northward  of  Chateau-Thierry,  but  hidden  from  the  cas- 
tle by  the  mounting  hills  and  forests,  are  the  open  fields 
before  Trugny  and  Epieds  and  the  tangles  of  the  Bois  de 
Trugny — battle  fields  of  the  New  Englanders.  Beyond  them 
lie  the  aisles  of  the  Forest  of  Fere,  and  La  Ferme  Le  Croix 
Rouge,  set  in  the  midst  of  it,  where  the  Rainbow  Division 
came  into  line,  and,  still  farther  away,  the  deadly  slopes 
along  the  Ourcq  where  not  only  the  Forty-second,  but  the 
Thirty-second  and  the  Twenty-eighth  Divisions  wrote  glory 
upon  their  standards.  In  fact,  on  every  side  of  Chateau- 
Thierry  is  country  which  will  be  visited  by  patriotic  pilgrims 
from  the  New  World  of  generations  yet  unborn,  for  it  was 
in  this  land  that  the  sons  of  America  gave  their  first  virile 
aid  to  the  cause  of  the  Allies  in  the  campaign  which  turned 
the  tide  of  the  war. 

In  the  streets  of  the  city  itself  the  effects  of  battle  were 
distressingly  evident  long  after  the  armistice.  The  Rue  du 
Mareschal  Retain  and  many  other  of  the  narrow  streets  were 
piled  feet  deep  with  the  debris  of  ruined  buildings  and 
blocked  by  the  Germans  with  barricades  made  of  stones  and 
the  furniture  from  adjacent  houses.  In  front  of  27  Rue  du 
Mareschal  Retain,  just  north  of  the  bridge,  was  the  barri- 
cade of  their  first  line  of  resistance,  facing  upon  the  wide 
esplanade  of  the  Champ  de  Mars.  The  handsome  Hotel  de 
Ville  lost  one  of  its  towers  in  the  bombardments,  though  a 
little  farther  down  the  street  the  sixteenth-century  belfry  of 
the  old  Belhan  Mansion  escaped  material  injury,  as  did  St. 
Crepin's  Church  on  the  Rue  St.  Crepin.  The  massive  fif- 
teenth-century tower  of  St.  Crepin's  has  already  been  men- 
tioned.    The  church   is  nobly  conceived,   with   carved  but- 


250         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

tresses  and  a  roof  line  of  deep,  saw-toothed  gables,  and  its 
low  groined  interior  and  sixteenth-century  organ  loft,  carved 
with  figures  of  the  prophetesses,  are  impressive. 

When  the  French  and  Americans  advanced  into  the  city 
after  the  enemy's  evacuation,  they  found  in  many  places 
heaps  of  packing  cases  and  sorted  booty,  systematically  col- 
lected by  the  Germans  from  the  stores  and  houses  and  much 
of  it  already  marked  for  shipment  to  Germany.  What  they 
had  not  already  carried  away  or  prepared  for  transportation, 
they  had  wantonly  destroyed  or  mutilated.  This  was  attested 
by  the  condition  of  the  interiors  of  scores  of  houses  wherein 
mirrors  hung  broken  and  pictures  slit  on  the  walls,  and  uphol- 
stered furniture  stood  ripped  open  with  bayonets,  and  pol- 
ished tables  hacked  to  pieces. 

Gentler  memories  are  stirred  as  one  ascends  the  steep 
Rue  de  la  Fontaine,  at  the  western  base  of  the  chateau  hill, 
and  pauses  at  Number  13,  where  the  light  of  day  was  first 
seen  by  the  erratic  son  of  Charles  de  la  Fontaine,  "master 
of  waters  and  forests"  of  the  Duchy  of  Chateau-Thierry, 
and  his  wife,  Frangoise  Pidoux.  Here  one  is  reminded,  too, 
of  the  fabulist's  suzeraine  and  generous  patroness  of  later 
years,  who  generally  resided  in  Chateau-Thierry;  Anne  Man- 
cini.  Duchess  of  Bouillon  and  youngest  of  Mazarin's  nieces; 
a  young  woman  who  was,  according  to  Mignard's  still-exist- 
ing portrait  of  her,  as  lovely  as  she  was  gracious.  Garbed 
to  represent  "the  Muse  of  the  Marne,"  in  that  portrait  she 
is  revivified  down  the  years;  "dressed  to  charm,  her  hair 
falling  upon  one  white  shoulder  in  Italian  curls  —  a  young 
woman,  beautiful,  darkly  piquant,  and  vivacious."  Is  it  any 
wonder  that  by  such  a  creature  her  talented  liegeman  should 
have  been  inspired  to  write  his  collection  of  famous  Tales 
and  a  large  number  of  his  imperishable  F ablest 


Where  Dwelt  the  Sluggard  Kings  251 

Going  out  of  the  principal,  or  northern,  part  of  the  city 
across  the  Marne  bridge  repaired  with  steel  on  the  piers  of 
the  structure  destroyed  by  the  Americans,  one  comes  to  the 
row  of  shattered  houses  along  the  southern  river  bank  where- 
in fought  the  Seventh  Machine-Gun  Battalion,  and  then,  pass- 
ing on  across  the  "false  Marne,"  or  canal,  which  shortens 
the  natural  bend  before  the  city,  he  enters  the  circular  Place 
Carnot,  where  the  American  battalion  commander.  Major 
Taylor,  made  his  post  of  command  on  the  evening  of  May 
31,  19 1 8,  in  touch  with  his  two  companies,  A,  under  Captain 
Houghton,  and  B,  under  Captain  Mendenhall,  which  were 
fighting  along  the  river  bank. 

In  the  American  Legion  Weekly  (June  3,  192 1)  the 
author  of  this  book  wrote : 

Company  B  was  assigned  to  the  defense  of  the  railroad  bridge 
and  the  portion  of  the  river  bank  lying  in  and  immediately  beyond 
the  eastern  section  of  the  town.  Company  A  took  over  the  de- 
fense of  the  western  portion,  including  the  wagon  bridge  in  the 
center  of  the  city.  The  squads  were  conducted  to  their  places  by 
French  officers  or  soldiers  and  the  Americans  spent  the  night  in 
preparing  their  positions,  receiving  some  German  shell  fire  from 
the  hills  north  of  the  Marne  and  an  occasional  burst  of  machine- 
gun  fire  from  the  lowlands  nearer  the  river.  For  these  detach- 
ments the  serious  work  had  not  yet  begun.  But  a  handful  of  14 
men  of  Company  A,  under  First  Lieutenant  John  T.  Bissell,  had 
a  wild  night  and  following  day  on  the  north  side  of  the  river, 
where,  with  a  few  French  Colonial  troops  who  were  holding  on 
there,  they  engaged  in  continuous  hot  street  fighting  with  the  Ger- 
man advance  guards. 

So,  with  a  last  impression  of  it  as  a  city  all  French,  yet 
with  an  aroma  of  America  now  hovering  about  it  perpetually, 
we  must  leave  Chateau-Thierry,  though  with  only  a  frag- 
ment of  all  its  traditions  and  its  romances  told. 


CHAPTER  XX 
fishermen's  paradise 

THE  road  through  the  southern  outskirts  of  Chateau- 
Thierry  is  the  direct  one  to  Montmirail,  but  it  is  better 
to  follow  the  Marne  along  its  right  shore  as  it  curves  south- 
ward past  the  base  of  Hill  204  and  then  leaves  the  edges  of 
the  little  fields  which  drop  down  to  the  water  from  the  out- 
strung  dwellings  of  Essomes.  The  street  of  Essomes  strag- 
gles aimlessly  along  the  brooklet  which  cuts  down  between 
Hill  204  and  the  equally  conspicuous  elevation  crowned  by 
the  Bois  de  Loup.  Cruelly  shattered  by  German  shell  fire 
in  19 1 8,  the  exquisite  parish  church  of  the  village,  whose 
choir  and  transept  are  worthy  of  a  cathedral,  still  preserves 
some  of  its  richly  carved  stalls  and  wainscottings  ranged 
along  the  rough  stone  walls,  as  well  as  the  remarkable  medie- 
val sculpturing  of  the  pulpit.  Nor  are  other  venerable  monu- 
ments lacking  in  the  quaint  riverside  village;  a  round  stone 
tower  with  moss-grown,  conical  roof  lifting  above  ramshackle 
poultry  sheds  and  stables  a  chaste  souvenir  of  a  vanished 
abbey,  and  another  tower,  more  dilapidated  but  not  less  pic- 
turesque with  its  deep  doorways  and  windows,  partly  in  ruins 
and  its  dense  mantling  of  ivy,  whose  very  name  suggests  the 
superstitions  of  olden  times,  "  La  Tourelle  de  I'Enfer."  Here, 
also  in  its  park  bordering  the  river,  is  the  war-wrecked  but 
once  charming  chateau,  La  ColHnette,  belonging  to  M.  Henri 
Dupont,  in  the  basement  of  which  Mile  Dupont  maintained 
a  canteen  which  will  be  remembered  by  many  soldiers  who 
passed  through  Essomes  or  camped  there.  In  a  place  so  near 
to  Chateau-Thierry  it  was  natural  that  American-army  activ- 
ities should  exist,  and  the  Quartermaster  Corps  operated  for 

252 


Fishermen's  Paradise  253 

some  time  in  the  village  a  coffee-roasting  plant  of  huge 
capacity. 

It  was  late  on  a  still  August  afternoon  when  Paul  and  the 
writer  passed  down  the  meandering  river  road  which  skirts 
the  base  of  the  Bois  de  Loup  through  Essomes  and  Aulnois 
and  Rouvroy.  As  we  turned  the  sharp  bend  into  Azy, 
couched,  beside  its  bridge,  opposite  to  the  ribbon  of  water 
pouring  into  the  Marne  which  is  the  mouth  of  the  Dolloir, 
blue-black  thunder  clouds  capped  by  dazzling  peaks  of  silver 
and  rose,  were  lifting  high  above  the  horizon.  Then,  like 
the  vision  of  a  dream,  there  broke  suddenly  upon  our  eyes  an 
entrancing  picture.  It  was  the  vale  of  Bonneil,  carpeted, 
near  at  hand,  by  stretches  of  golden  wheat  stubble,  over 
which  at  intervals  stood  the  grain  ricks,  symmetrical  as 
groups  of  tents.  Beyond  that  rich  foreground,  mellowed  by 
the  sunshine  and  the  long  shadows  of  afternoon,  the  white 
walls  and  ruddy  roofs  of  the  village  reclined  as  upon  a  divan 
on  the  hill  slopes  towering  above  it,  gay  with  orchards  and 
vines,  while,  over  all,  the  dark  forests  of  the  crests  glowed 
vividly  against  the  stormy  sky.  At  our  left  glinted  the 
placid  current  of  the  Marne,  its  waters  dividing  to  embrace 
the  fairy-like  island  whose  trees  partly  veiled  the  long  walls 
and  low  roofs  of  La  Ferme  de  I'Abbeye  Chateau,  dreaming 
beneath  the  hill  of  Chezy.  Here  was  beauty  and  nature 
unscarred  reposing  in  a  peace  as  profound  as  if  war  had 
never  been;  yonder,  just  behind  the  hill  of  the  Bois  de  Loup, 
was  desolation  and  ruin  indescribable.  Dramatic  contrast 
could  not  be  more  sharply  drawn. 

But  the  whole  land  is  now  become  suddenly  one  of  peace 
and,  locally,  at  least,  of  plenty.  The  road,  following  the 
long  sweeps  of  the  river,  winds  south  and  then  west  again 
between  the  hills  and  the  lowland  meadows  where  poplars 


254        ^^'^^  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

and  willows  here  and  there  wave  their  plumes  above  the 
water  and  where  cattle  graze  among  the  deep  grasses.  V/hite 
villages,  each  clustered  about  its  guardian  church  tower,  suc- 
ceed one  another  at  short  intervals;  Romeny  and  Le  Pont 
and  Saulchery  near  at  hand  and,  beyond  the  Marne,  the  more 
considerable  groups  of  Chezy  and  Nogent-l'Artaud,  with 
great  sweeps  of  agricultural  land  and  at  wide  intervals  the 
buildings  of  a  farmstead,  between  them. 

Nogent,  which  stands  guard  over  the  mouth  of  the  Dol- 
loir,  became  of  a  good  deal  of  importance  in  the  Middle 
Ages  through  the  efforts  of  an  able  commoner,  native  of  the 
place,  who  was  later  ennobled  by  the  Count  of  Champagne 
and  made  lord  of  the  seigniory.  His  tombstone  is  still  to  be 
seen  in  the  parish  church.  The  town  today  has  corset  and 
button  factories  as  well  as  manufactories  of  optical  instru- 
ments and  it  boasts  a  more  curious  industry  in  the  dyeing  of 
moss  for  use  in  funeral  wreaths  and  bouquets  of  artificial 
flowers. 

The  peaceful  valley  broadens  as  we  leave  Saulchery  be- 
hind and  the  well-tilled  fields  of  the  Orxois  draw  back  to 
give  place  to  levels  of  velvet  verdure  on  both  shores  of  the 
river,  whose  shining  expanse  rolls  between,  unshadowed  by 
more  than  an  occasional  bush  or  low  tree,  the  white  towpath 
embroidering  its  right  bank.  Across  the  sunny  fields  pres- 
ently appear  the  low,  spreading  outlines  of  a  town  evidently 
larger  than  any  we  have  encountered  since  leaving  Chateau- 
Thierry.  It  is  Charly-sur-Marne,  growing  like  a  flower  gar- 
den out  of  the  gentle  slopes  along  the  Ru  du  Domptin  where 
that  little  stream  creeps  down  from  the  Orxois  Hills  below 
Coupru  and  La  Ferme  de  Paris,  and  hence  from  ground  very 
familiar  to  the  rear  echelons  of  the  Second  and  Twenty- 
sixth  American  Divisions  in  the  midsummer  of   1918. 


'V 


/ 


;_j<,  j»,  >»« 


The  Abbey  Tower,  Essomes 


{Page  2')2\ 


*»-j,> 


¥i^^ 


Charly's  main  street  unrolls  its  wliite  ribbon  toward  Paris 

[Page  255] 


Fishermen's  Paradise  255 

Charly's  main  street  is,  in  truth,  only  the  main  highway, 
still  unrolling  its  white  ribbon  toward  La  Ferte  and  Meaux 
and  Paris.  But  far  in  the  outskirts  it  assumes  the  appear- 
ance of  a  city  street,  with  villas  set  in  pretty  gardens  defining 
its  course.  The  business  section  is  concentrated  at  the  cross- 
ing of  the  road  which  winds  up  the  valley  of  the  Domptin, 
but  it  is  all  quiet  and  unperturbed  enough  for  such  small 
factories  as  exist  are  situated  well  in  the  suburbs.  There  are 
quaint,  musty  byways  in  Charly,  bordered  by  venerable 
houses  with  deep,  embrasure-like  doors  and  windows  peeping 
out  through  the  greenery  and  over  the  mossy  walls,  and  there 
is  an  ancient  hospice  so  buried  among  shrubs  and  trees  that 
the  very  pathways  which  approach  it  seem  scarcely  able  them- 
selves to  find  it.  Across  the  meadows  by  the  riverside,  a 
half-dozen  or  more  wide,  flat  canal  barges,  like  a  flock  of 
ungainly  ducks,  are  usually  riding  lazily  in  the  port,  waiting 
their  turn  to  go  through  the  lock  at  one  end  of  the  dam  whose 
wall  of  white  water  boils  unceasingly  over  into  the  shallow 
channel  below. 

Calm  once  more  after  its  exciting  plunge,  the  river  turns 
southward  into  the  bend  by  which  it  encircles  the  hill  of 
Poteron.  Along  the  shore,  caressed  by  tiny  ripples,  are  to 
be  found,  as  elsewhere  on  almost  any  afternoon  of  summer. 
the  women  of  the  adjacent  villages  kneeling  on  flat  stones  or 
strips  of  clean  sand  with  baskets  of  soiled  linen  beside  them, 
industriously  washing.  Along  such  reaches,  also,  though 
generally  in  more  secluded  spots  well  sheltered  from  the  sun, 
are  encountered  the  omnipresent  French  fishermen,  seeking 
their  supine  relaxation  from  the  cares  of  life  in  the  same 
element  to  which  the  women  resort  for  some  of  their  most 
strenuous  labors. 

It  was  a  fundamental  tenet  of  faith  among  the  American 


2^6         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

soldiers  that  French  fishermen  fish  and  fish  and  fish  and  never 
catch  anything.  Whether  or  not  this  be  strictly  true,  they 
certainly  demonstrate,  by  their  tireless  persistence,  the  cardi- 
nal virtue  of  patience.  Perhaps  the  infrequency  of  bites  con- 
tributes to  the  air  of  meditative  solemnity  in  which  they  are 
continually  wrapped  as  they  sit,  rod  in  hand,  with  their  feet 
stretched  out  upon  a  bank  of  greensward  or  dangling  over 
the  edge  of  a  dock  or  a  mossy  stone  wall,  or  else  recline  indo- 
lently upon  the  handrail  of  a  bridge.  Merchant  or  farmer, 
tired  business  man  or  poilu  in  horizon  blue,  all  Frenchmen 
seem  soothed  to  one  mental  attitude;  to  become  members  of 
one  great,  somnolent  fraternity,  when  they  fish.  Whether 
the  day  be  bright  with  sunshine  or  mistily  dark  with  rain,  an 
endless  succession  of  them,  more  or  less  distantly  spaced, 
brood  like  river  spirits  upon  the  face  of  the  waters  all  the 
way  from  the  meadows  beneath  the  buttes  of  Langres  and 
Chaumont  to  the  embowered  bends,  darting  with  canoes 
and  rowboats,  that  reflect  the  maritime  cafes  and  villas  of 
Bry  and  Chennevieres,  hard  by  Paris.  Fishing  is  obviously 
one  of  the  great  sedatives  of  the  French  people  and  the 
Marne  administers  the  soothing  potion  to  its  due  proportion 
of  the  population. 

In  a  carelessly  elongated  double  row  of  shops  and  dwell- 
ings, Pavant  stretches  its  length  along  the  left  bank  of  the 
Marne  as  the  latter  begins  its  swing  of  a  full  half-circle 
around  the  promontory  of  Porteron.  Devoted,  like  its  up- 
river  neighbors,  to  the  production  of  buttons  and  beads,  the 
place,  though  seemingly  so  far  removed  from  the  world  of 
fashion  and  all  its  thoughts,  yet  has  added  to  its  industries 
that  of  the  fabrication  of  whalebone  corset  stays,  for  the  use 
of  milady  of  the  Paris  boulevards  and  the  Riviera.  Below 
Pavant  the  land  becomes  even  more  lovely  as  the  Marne 


Fishermen's  Paradise  257 

descends  toward  the  Department  of  Seine-et-Marne  and  the 
mouth  of  the  Petit  Morin.  The  hills  swell  in  contours  more 
gentle  and  their  mantling  of  cultures,  owing  no  doubt  to  the 
constant  succession  of  sweeping  bends  molded  between 
heights  which  present  an  infinite  variety  of  exposures  to  the 
sun,  become  more  luxuriant  and  varied  in  character.  Viewed 
from  the  upland  above  Petit  Porteron,  the  river,  circling 
round  Citry  and  Saacy,  into  the  bend,  still  more  acute,  which 
almost  leaves  Mery-sur-Marne  upon  an  island,  suggests  in 
miniature  the  curve  of  the  Bay  of  Naples,  the  succession  of 
towns  that,  like  jewels,  encompass  the  latter,  being  simulated 
by  Crouttes  and  Nanteuil  and  Mery  embroidering  the  skirts 
of  the  hills  with  their  walls  and  gardens.  Crouttes,  which 
belongs  still  to  the  Department  of  the  Aisne,  reclines,  as  it 
were,  upon  the  edge  of  a  shell,  its  amphitheater  of  dwellings 
beneath  the  church  tower  looking  across  the  Marne  to  the 
little  plain,  verdant  with  fruit  orchards  and  woods  and  a 
checkerboard  of  cultivated  fields,  which  encircles  Citry. 

Behind  the  latter  and  extending  to  east  and  west  as  far 
as  the  eye  can  see,  a  strongly  marked  line  along  the  flanks 
of  the  southward  hills  is  a  feature  of  the  landscape  which  is 
at  first  mystifying.  It  neither  rises  nor  descends  but  follow- 
ing the  same  contour  save  when  it  cuts  across  a  depression 
or  penetrates  beneath  a  summit,  it  preserves  a  winding  but 
unbroken  course  in  the  direction  of  Paris.  It  is  the  Aque- 
duct of  the  Dhuis,  which  is  almost  as  horizontal  in  fact  as 
it  appears  to  the  eye,  having  a  descent  of  only  60  feet  in  its 
length  of  nearly  82  miles. 

Nanteuil,  first  village  of  Seine-et-Marne,  lies  on  the  right 
bank  and  attests  by  its  comfortable  homes  to  a  population 
which  is  well-to-do  and  the  reason  is  sufficiently  evident  in 
the   vineyards   occupying  the   sunniest  hillsides  all  about  it 


258         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

and  the  neatly  divided  strips  of  farm  land  marking  the  level 
grounds.  So  v^ith  Mery,  next  of  the  Marne's  fair  daughters 
of  buxom,  rustic  type,  and  then  we  meet  with  a  surprise  on 
crossing  the  river  and  discovering  in  Saacy  a  place  which 
resembles  a  suburb  of  Paris  in  so  far  as  concerns  the  making 
and  vending  of  corsets,  'laces,  sashes,  ribbons,  and  embroid- 
ered military  'insignia.  In  small  workrooms  and  shops  no 
larger  than  they,  but  often  fitted  in  metropolitan  style  with 
plate-glass  fronts,  several  hundred  skilled  workers,  most  of 
them  women,  carry  on  at  Saacy  an  industry  whose  products 
reach  not  only  Paris  but  New  York  and  San  Francisco,  and 
many  other  of  the  world's  distant  cities.  It  is  curious  to 
reflect  that  this  orchard-walled  hamlet,  tucked  away  among 
the  Marne  hills,  should  contribute  such  articles  of  refinement 
to  the  wants  of  more  or  less  luxurious  city  dwellers. 

The  modest  little  manufacturing  center  lies  more  than  a 
kilometer  south  of  the  Paris-Metz  Railroad,  which  crosses 
the  river  and  plunges  through  a  long  tunnel  under  the  penin- 
sula on  which  Mery  stands,  to  come  out  over  another  convex 
bend  and  then  curve  southward  to  La  Ferte-sous-Jouarre. 
But  well  north  of  the  railroad  the  river  itself  follows  its 
sinuous  valley,  in  the  head  of  which  the  long-flung  streets  of 
Ste.  Aulde  mark  the  right  bank,  white  and  clean  and  half- 
hidden  behind  the  fruit  trees  that  tumble  down  the  hills  in 
cascades  of  verdure.  Around  Ste.  Aulde,  the  most  important 
products  of  the  orchards  are  prunes,  while  many  fields  are 
devoted  to  the  growth  of  petits  pots,  the  delicious  French 
peas  which  all  the  world  relishes. 

Beside  the  highway  cutting  across  the  peninsula  south  of 
Ste.  Aulde,  Luzancy,  charmingly  situated  upon  the  upper  ter- 
races of  the  vine-robed  hills,  adds  its  bit  of  color  to  the  pan- 
orama of  unfolding  beauty.     A  great  public  property  here  is 


Fishermen's  Paradise  259 


devoted  to  the  care  of  the  anemic  children  of  the  eighteenth 
Arrondissement  of  Paris  (Montmartre)  and  during  the  sum- 
mer months  these  unfortunate  Httle  ones,  in  parties  of  about 
200  at  a  time,  are  given  the  joy  of  spending  a  few  weeks  in 
this  invigorating  air  and  among  these  scenes  of  rural  love- 
liness. 

As  the  Marne  drops  southward,  now,  toward  La  Ferte, 
past  the  low,  ample  houses  of  Vaux  whose  hospitable  door- 
ways seem  to  invite  the  wayfarer  to  enter  and  rest;  past 
lovely  Chamigny  beneath  its  gray  and  faded  church  tower, 
massive  as  the  fragment  of  a  fortress,  round  which 

On  either  side  the  river  lie 

Long  fields  of  barley  and  of  rye 

That  clothe  the  world  and  meet  the  sky; 

past  Reuil,  where  the  grass  lands,  close  cropped  by  troops  of 
sheep,  stretch  to  the  river's  margin  as  smooth  as  the  lawns 
of  a  park,  an  expanding  sense  of  the  benign  graciousness  of 
the  land  steals  warmly  into  the  heart.  Perhaps  it  is  here, 
swaying  in  long,  careless  bends  between  the  hills  of  the 
Orxois  and  the  Brie,  that  the  Marne  is  happier  than  any- 
where else  in  its  course.  Now  deeply  green  beneath  the 
shadow  of  a  shouldering  hill,  now  azure  under  an  undimmed 
sky,  now  shot  with  silver  where  a  passing  breeze  skims  its 
surface,  now  boiling  impatiently  over  a  dam,  but  always 
cheerful,  always  gentle,  always  dimpling  with  a  thousand 
moods  of  merriment  or  pensiveness,  the  river  is  the  gracious 
presiding  spirit  of  the  country,  in  all  of  whose  beauties  it  is 
the  perfecting  element.  There  are  no  factories  to  darken  its 
bosom  with  clouds  of  coal  smoke  or  to  soil  it  with  their 
refuse,  no  rude  cliffs  to  cramp  its  wanderings,  nor  canals  to 
rob  it  of  its  own  full  flow  of  waters;  only  white  villages  to 


26o         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 


smile  upon  it  and  green  meadows  to  caress  and  the  far,  for- 
ested hills  and  over-arching  sky  to  reflect.  There  is  an  ampli- 
tude, a  tranquility,  a  sweet  peace  of  well-being  here  which  is 
the  very  essence  of  the  spirit  of  the  Marne.  And  to  those 
who  know  and  love  it,  that  means  something  which  is  akin 
to  the  beauty  and  the  peace  of  heaven. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

DREAM    COUNTRY 

WHEN  he  set  forth  on  his  journey  to  the  Rhine,  Victor 
Hugo  took  passage  in  a  diligence,  which  went  bowl- 
ing along  the  fine  highroad  through  Claye  and  Meaux  toward 
La  Ferte-sous-Jouarre.  But,  for  all  the  excellence  of  the 
road,  a  wheel  of  his  vehicle  presently  broke.  Then  he  aban- 
doned it,  changed  to  another  which  chanced  to  pass  and  con- 
tinued his  journey,  perched  upon  the  imperial  between  a 
hunchback  and  a  gendarme,  enjoying  himself  thoroughly 
what  with  their  ingenuous  conversation  and  the  attractions  of 
the  landscape.  He  found  the  time  perfect  for  traveling,  and 
wrote : 

The  fields  are  full  of  laborers,  finishing  the  harvest  and  build- 
ing immense  stacks  at  different  spots,  which  in  their  half -completed 
condition  are  not  unlike  the  pyramids  in  ruins  that  are  met  in 
Syria.  The  ridges  of  corn  are  so  arranged  on  the  brow  of  the 
hills  as  to  resemble  the  back  of  a  zebra. 

And,  well  content,  the  novelist  came  presently  to  La 
Ferte, 

....  a  pretty  little  town,  with  its  three  bridges,  its  old  mill  sup- 
ported by  five  arches  in  the  middle  of  the  river,  and  its  handsome 
pavilion  of  the  time  of  Louis  xiii,  which,  it  is  said,  belonged  to 
the  Duke  of  Saint-Simon,  and  is  now  in  the  hands  of  a  grocer. 

As  Victor  Hugo  found  it,  so  La  Ferte  remains,  in  great 
degree,  today,  but  enlivened,  it  is  true,  by  the  presence  of 
two  railways;  the  Paris-Metz  line  which  we  have  seen  for 
so  long  threading  the  Marne  Valley,  and  another  which 
comes  down  the  Petit  Morin  from  Montmirail  and  joins  the 
greater  artery  at  La  Ferte,   even  as  the  small  river  there 

261 


262         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

unites  with  the  Marne.  There  are  factories,  too,  at  La  Ferte 
but  they  never  obtrude  rudely  upon  the  dreamy  quiet  of  the 
place  nor  bring  discordant  features  into  the  harmonies  of 
white  walls,  dazzling  streets  and  roadways  and  wandering 
blue  waters  gleaming  out  shyly  from  the  luxuriant  leafage  of 
gardens  and  boulevards  beneath  the  even  greater  waves  of 
the  hills  rolling  away  on  every  side. 

To  men  entering  it  in  the  olive-drab  uniforms  of  the 
American  Army  several  months  after  those  uniforms  had 
ceased  to  be  everyday  affairs  in  the  lives  of  the  inhabitants, 
La  Ferte-sous-Jouarre  gave  most  heart-warming  sensations. 
Even  along  the  country  roads  miles  before  the  roofs  of  the 
city  came  into  view,  the  cordiality  of  passers-by  began  to 
assume  greater  warmth  and  their  smiles  and  salutations  to 
seem  more  like  those  of  personal  friends.  Arrived  at  the 
cozy  little  Hotel  de  I'Epee,  in  the  bustling  center  of  the  town, 
the  marks  of  regard  lavished  upon  Paul  and  the  writer, 
despite  the  travel-worn  appearance  of  their  antique  Ford, 
became,  if  possible,  even  more  amicable.  The  hotel  proprie- 
tor shook  hands  with  us  as  we  signed  our  identification  pa- 
pers, the  porter  sprang  for  our  luggage  as  though  we  hon- 
ored him  in  permitting  him  to  touch  it,  the  maids  gazed  upon 
us  with  liquid  eyes  as  upon  men  who  had  just  rescued  them 
from  sudden  death. 

Out  on  the  sunny  street,  lined  with  bright  shops,  neat  and 
cheerful,  it  was  the  same.  Everyone  smiled,  many  nodded 
and  spoke,  as  to  long-lost  cousins.  In  nearly  every  trading 
place  the  owner  or  the  clerks  brought  forth  a  few  words  of 
English  for  our  delectation,  spoken  with  a  delicious  accent  and 
a  bashful,  almost  tender,  pride.  It  was  market  day  in  La  Ferte 
and  as  the  writer  passed  through  the  market  place,  crowded 
with  shoppers  and  the  carts  and  tiny  stalls  of  the  vendors  of 


Dream   Country  263 


vegetables,  flowers,  embroideries  and  knick-knacks,  and 
ascended  the  high  steps  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  he  turned  to 
make  the  embarrassing  discovery  that  he  was  unconsciously 
playing  the  role  of,  "lo,  the  conquering  hero  comes."  Busi- 
ness in  the  square  had  virtually  suspended  while  tradespeo- 
ple and  customers  alike  had  turned  their  eyes  in  his  direction 
and  a  politely  modulated  buzz  of  talk  came  to  his  ears,  in 
which  the  phrase  officier  Americain  was  especially  noticeable. 
In  an  atmosphere  charged  with  such  friendliness  one  loves  to 
linger  and  the  writer  confesses  to  a  desire,  then  and  there  to 
purchase  a  cottage  in  the  lovely  environs  and  among  the  hos- 
pitable people  of  La  Ferte-sous-Jouarre  and  there  to  remain 
indefinitely.  But,  alas,  it  could  not  be,  the  returns  of  his 
previous  month's  pay  voucher  having  already  arrived  too 
near  to  the  vanishing  point. 

The  explanation  of  the  cordiality  of  the  people  of  La 
Ferte  to  Americans  is  not  far  to  seek.  In  June  and  July, 
1918,  while  the  United  States  divisions  were  fighting  their 
first  battles  along  the  Marne  salient  and  in  the  valley  of  the 
Ourcq,  General  Pershing  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  time  at 
La  Ferte,  observing  the  operations  of  his  troops  and  caring 
for  their  welfare,  though  they  were  still  directly  under  French 
army  command.  Here,  on  August  10,  19 18,  the  First  Amer- 
ican Army  came  officially  into  being  and  its  staff  organization 
was  perfected.  Hence,  for  several  months  during  the  very 
crisis  of  the  war,  the  city  was  the  rendezvous  for  large  num- 
bers of  American  soldiers  and  a  great  many  of  their  most 
prominent  officers,  all  of  whom  appear  to  have  produced 
upon  the  inhabitants  a  profoundly  favorable  impression. 

La  Ferte  has  a  respectable  antiquity,  for  it  was  a  walled 
town  in  the  sixteenth  century,  which  was  probably  even 
before  the  manufacture  of  mill  stones  had  begun  to  bring  to 

18 


264         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

it  commercial  prominence.  There  are  contemporary  draw- 
ings still  existing  of  the  charming  Chateau  of  La  Barre, 
which  then  occupied  the  Marne  Island  in  the  lower  part  of 
the  town,  still  lovely,  but  robbed  of  its  mansion  of  other 
days,  one  of  whose  melancholy  distinctions  it  was  to  have 
been  the  last  stopping  place  of  Louis  xvi  on  his  return  to 
Paris  from  Varennes.  But  it  is  on  the  hills  of  Haute-Brie, 
2  or  3  kilometers  south  of  La  Ferte  and  accessible  from  the 
latter  by  a  road  climbing  steeply  up  from  the  valley,  that 
Jouarre,  quaint  and  somnolent,  gathers  to  itself  the  chief 
archaeological  interests  of  the  region. 

Jouarre,  once  the  Divodurus  (Divine  Fortress)  of  the 
Gauls  and  later  the  Roman  "Jovis  ara,"  possesses  many  sou- 
venirs of  the  long-past  centuries.  Chief  of  them  undoubtedly 
is  the  crypt,  lying  behind  the  fifteenth-century  church.  Al- 
though it  is  embellished  with  handsome  pillars  erected  during 
the  cycle  of  the  Merovingians,  the  crypt  itself  much  ante- 
dates their  time.  It  is,  indeed,  said  to  be  the  most  ancient 
Christian  structure  existing  in  the  region  of  Paris,  which  is 
only  50  kilometers  from  Jouarre.  The  ponderous  stone  sar- 
cophagi of  six  early  Christian  notables  occupy  the  crypt, 
among  them  being  that  of  St.  Eoregisile,  Bishop  of  Meaux 
in  the  eighth  century.  The  presence  of  such  intimate  relics 
of  the  early  upholders  of  the  faith,  still  resting  in  the  place 
of  their  original  sepulture,  arouse  in  the  visitor  to  this  silent 
spot,  whose  very  rocks  seem  weary  with  age,  a  feeling  of 
awe  mingled  with  increased  reverence  for  the  greatness 
and  vitality  of  our  religion  which  has  survived  so  many 
centuries  and  grown  immeasurably  in  majesty  and 
power. 

Quaint  and   venerable  houses   have   their  settings  along 
the  quiet  streets  and  above  them,  a  symbol  of  the  past,  mounts 


Dream  ^Country  265 


skyward  the  superb  Romanesque  Tower  of  Guet,  a  buttressed 
relic  of  a  thirteenth-century  abbey,  while  in  the  empty  Place 
that  echoes  to  the  feet  of  the  occasional  wayfarer,  a  hoary 
stone  cross  of  the  same  epoch  points  the  eternal  way  through 
the  slow  currents  of  time  that  lap  the  faded  structures  of  old 
generations  on  every  side.  The  church  itself,  though  almost 
juvenile  in  comparison  with  the  crypt  which  it  guards,  shows 
a  charming  interior  with  massive  columns  blossoming  into 
the  low  groins  of  the  ceiling  and  it  shelters  some  rare  stained 
glass  of  the  sixteenth  century  and  shrines  of  the  thir- 
teenth. 

But  the  musty  lore  of  ancient  things  is  sharply  displaced 
in  the  mind  by  an  awakening  sense  of  recent  days  when  one 
catches  a  glimpse  from  the  hilltop  of  the  silver  thread  of  the 
Petit  Morin  creasing  its  deep,  narrow  valley  down  through 
the  uplands  from  the  southeast,  and  recollections  are  stirred 
of  that  eighth  of  September,  1914,  when  the  weary  soldiers 
of  Marshal  French's  British  Army,  restored  to  splendid 
energy  by  the  prospect  of  forward  fighting  once  more,  struck 
the  advanced  elements  of  von  Kliick's  hosts  and  forced  them 
northward  across  this  sluggish  little  vein  of  water  and  its 
more  formidable  trough  of  hills  to  finally  reach  the  Marne 
bridges  of  La  Ferte  and  win  a  passage  across  them  against 
bitter  opposition.  All  about  the  hill  of  Jouarre  the  British 
soldiers  then  swarmed,  their  coming  saving  the  old  town 
and  the  larger  community  at  its  feet  from  further  molesta- 
tion by  the  enemy. 

The  bridge  on  the  Rue  des  Pelletiers,  the  chief  business 
thoroughfare  of  La  Ferte,  was  destroyed  during  the  fighting 
of  19 14  but  its  stonework  has  been  replaced  by  not  ungrace- 
ful steel  arches,  while  the  stone  Pont  Neuf,  farther  down 
stream,  still  casts  the  moving  reflections  of  its  sturdy  piers 


266         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

upon  the  bosom  of  the  river.  Just  below  the  Rue  des  Pelle- 
tiers,  on  the  right  bank,  occurs  a  succession  of  stately  old 
mansions,  their  foundation  walls  descending  sheer  into  the 
river  and  the  boughs  and  vines  of  their  gardens  leaning  out 
coquettishly  to  catch  their  own  images  in  the  bosom  of  the 
stream.  Flowers  and  water  grasses  softly  cushion  the  base 
of  the  wall,  which  here  and  there  just  above  the  water's  edge 
is  pierced  by  a  massive,  mossy  door  giving  into  the  interior 
of  one  of  the  houses  and  suggesting  midnight  romance,  lurk- 
ing bravos,  or  stealthy  elopements  by  the  shining  pathway  of 
the  Marne. 

On  the  other  shore  of  the  river,  squarely  opposite  to  the 
dignified  mansions  of  local  aristocrats,  like  practicality  set 
face  to  face  with  romance  and  staring  it  out  of  countenance, 
extends  a  long  line  of  warehouses  and  not  too  obtrusive 
workshops,  mainly  the  emporiums  of  concerns  manufactur- 
ing or  dispensing  mill  stones.  Such  stones,  it  is  unnecessary 
to  say,  are  among  the  most  ancient  implements  employed  by 
mankind  in  industry.  They  are  made  from  a  siliceo-calcar- 
eous  rock  of  a  peculiar  rough  texture  adapted  to  grinding 
flour,  deposits  of  which  are  found  only  in  a  few  places  in 
Europe  and  America.  One  of  these  deposits,  and  perhaps 
the  largest  is  close  to  La  Ferte,  in  the  hills  of  Abymes  and 
Tarteret,  between  the  Marne  and  the  Petit  Morin.  Here  the 
slopes  are  furrowed  by  the  great  trenches  of  the  quarries 
where  for  ages  the  rough  stone  has  been  taken  out.  The 
industry  of  preparing  the  stones  for  market  was  formerly  of 
much  greater  volume  than  it  is  today,  for  other  processes  of 
making  flour  by  improved  mechanical  methods  have  largely 
superseded  the  ancient  practice  of  grinding,  but  the  trade  is 
still  considerable  and  at  la  Ferte  it  gives  employment  to 
hundreds  of  workmen. 


Dream   Country  267 


The  city,  however,  is  not  wholly  dependent  for  prosperity 
upon  the  millstone  quarries.  It  possesses  another  flourishing 
industry  in  the  handling  of  cheeses.  Though  far  outranked  by 
Meaux  in  the  volume  of  its  trade  in  this  commodity,  La  Ferte 
has  attained  a  standing  in  it  which  is  due  in  no  small  degree 
to  the  efforts  of  one  M.  Georges  Roger,  who  established  here, 
on  the  hillside  overlooking  the  railroad  station,  a  laboratory 
in  which  he  produced  artificially  the  bacilli  of  fermentation 
which  experience  has  proved  to  yield  the  best  flavors  in  the 
different  varieties  of  cheeses.  The  attainment  of  uniformly 
excellent  results  by  the  use  of  such  bacilli,  in  place  of  the 
uncertainties  of  former  haphazard  methods,  conquered  the 
prejudices  of  even  the  conservative  French  farmer.  Al- 
though in  the  vicinity  of  the  city  itself  dairying  is  not  much 
practiced,  the  cultivation  of  grapes  and  orchards  being  more 
profitable,  the  high  plateaus  of  the  Brie,  the  Orxois,  and 
Multien  produce  large  quantities  of  cheese  a  proportion  of 
which  finds  its  way  to  market  through  La  Ferte. 

It  is  the  district  called  the  Multien.  defined  quite  vaguely 
in  general  but  separated  from  the  Haute-Brie  and  the  Orxois 
by  the  Marne  and  the  Ourcq  and  extending  thence  15  or  20 
kilometers  west  over  St.  Soupplets  to  form  a  sort  of  irregu- 
lar triangle  with  Meaux  at  its  base,  which  looks  eastward 
toward  La  Ferte  across  the  vast  Marne  bend,  in  the  bight 
of  which  the  Ourcq  enters  the  parent  stream.  From  La  Ferte 
a  straight  raceway  of  the  Marne  flows  down  through  gentle, 
open  farming  country  to  the  head  of  this  bend  at  Changis. 
At  Sammeron  and  Uzy,  the  one  on  the  left  bank,  the  other 
on  the  right,  the  straight  flow  of  the  stream  is  interrupted  by 
the  leafy  Ile-Notre-Dame,  in  whose  tiny,  shadowed  coves 
lurk  the  flat-bottomed  scows  of  fishermen  and  between  whose 
feathered  branches  flash  exquisite  vistas  of  the  ivy-clad  Ro- 


268         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

man  church  towers  of  the  two  villages,  around  which,  on  the 

meadows,  one  may 

....  watch  the  mowers,  as  they  go 
Through  the  tall  grass,  a  white-sleeved  row. 
With  even  stroke  their  scythe  they  swing. 

In  tune  their  merry  zvhetstones  ring 

The  cattle  graze,  while,  zvarm  and  still. 
Slopes  the  broad  pasture,  basks  the  hill. 
And   bright,  where  summer  breezes  break. 
The  green  wheat  ripples  like  a  lake. 

Probably  John  T.  Trowbridge  sang  of  an  American  val- 
ley scene,  but  he  sang  as  truly  for  one  in  the  valley  of  the 
Marne,  where,  above  Sammeron,  the  broad  grain  fields  are 
enlivened  in  August  by  the  harvesters,  men  and  women, 
loading  the  bundles  upon  the  two-wheeled  wains,  drawn  by 
stout,  cream-colored  oxen,  and  building  up  the  huge  circu- 
lar stacks  which,  when  completed,  are  thatched  with  straw 
as  carefully  and  systematically  laid  as  the  roof  of  a  house. 
Here  and  there  the  smoke  of  a  steam  threshing  engine  drifts 
above  the  treetops,  betokening  peaceful  industry  in  place  of 
the  smoke  of  batteries  in  action  which  filmed  this  landscape 
a  few  years  ago.  For  this  is  a  part  of  the  region  of  which 
Edmond  Pilon  passionately  and  poetically  wrote  in  his  Sous 
I'Egide  de  la  Marne: 

In  September,  1914,  also,  it  was  autumn;  September  with  its 
grain  fields;  September  with  its  clustered  grapes!  And  the  days 
were  fair  and  warm.  In  the  furrows  the  quails  ran;  above  the 
vineyards  sang  the  thrush.  The  bumblebee,  gorged  with  the  booty 
of  the  flowers,  droned  in  the  air  about  the  daisies  and  the  little 
blossom  clusters  of  the  prairies,  and  the  sky  above  the  waters  of 
the  Marne  between  Meaux  and  La  Ferte,  was  so  blue,  so  pure, 
that  one  could  well  understand  that  this  was,  indeed,  the  country 
of  tales;  that  pleasant  land  to  which  La  Fontaine  in  his  time  re- 
turned without  ceasing  and  from  which  the  good  Joinville  departed 
only  with  great  grief.  It  was  an  opulent  country,  exquisite,  fecund ; 
a  country  where  the  cricket  chirps,  of  fair  fields,  of  gorse-covered 


r1- 


iV:-lf 


-■^i»i"fe 


Garden  walls  washed  by  the  river,  La  Ferte-sous-Jouarre 

[Page  266] 


A' 


mL., 


tJii 


St.  Jean-les-Deux-Jumeaux 


{Paye  S69] 


00 

e 


03 

o 

s 


o 


CO 
I 

CO 


Dream   Country  269 


hills,  of  verdant  grasses,  of  successions  of  farms  where  the  grow- 
ing things  perfume  the  air  and  barnyard  fowls  scratch  and  maraud. 
Everywhere,  on  the  roads,  in  the  lanes,  came  and  went  the  people 
of  that  "  race  sober  and  fine,"  of  which  Taine  spoke. 

The  sky  was  so  transparent,  the  air  so  light,  that  one  could 
hear  in  the  distance,  above  the  flowers  where  the  bees  were  flying, 
all  at  once  in  this  quiet,  in  this  calm  and  peace  of  nature,  tran- 
quillity of  people  and  repose  of  flocks,  as  on  a  day  of  storm,  a 
dull  rumble,  distant,  prolonged.  And  here  where  the  Huns  had 
swept  by,  where  Napoleon  had  passed,  flying  to  Fontainebleau  in 
haste,  overwhelmed  by  fate,  shaking  his  fist,  his  eagles  baffled  and 

brought  low,  sudden  the  Germans  came  pouring Conquerors 

at  Charleroi,  having  forced  and  ravaged  northern  France,  they 
descended  in  an  avalanche,  and  ahead  of  their  host,  as  once  ahead 
of  Attila,  arrested  in  Champagne  by  the  same  waters  which  had 
arrested  him,  they  broke  the  millstones,  pillaged  the  houses,  seized 
hostages  and,  from  time  to  time,  along  the  wall  of  a  farm  shot 
down  with  rifles  an  old  man  or  an  infant. 

M.  Pilon  perhaps  had  in  mind,  in  his  last  statement,  a 
murder  of  September,  1914,  at  Congis,  where,  as  recorded 
by  Mr.  Toynbee, 

....  the  Germans  arrested  a  man  66  years  old  near  a  spot  called 
Gue-a-Tresmes,  tied  him  to  a  cattle-tether  and  shot  him  —  out  of 
spite,  because  they  found  no  money  in  his  purse.  After  this  murder 
the  Germans  prepared  to  set  Congis  on  fire.  "  They  stuffed  twenty 
houses  with  straw  and  drenched  them  with  petrol,  but  the  arrival 
of  the  French  troops  fortunately  prevented  them  from  carrying  out 
their  purpose." 

Congis,  where  the  above  revolting  incident  occurred,  lies 
in  a  pocket  of  the  valley  just  below  the  mouth  of  the  Ourcq 
and  it  will  soon  be  encountered  in  following  the  long  bend 
of  the  Marne  which,  a  few  kilometers  below  Uzy,  elbows  its 
way  between  the  two  guardian  villages  of  Changis,  on  the 
right  bank  and,  on  the  left,  a  place  whose  name  is  verbal 
music  —  St.  Jean-les-Deux-Jumeaux.  Nor  are  the  charms 
of  the  latter  village  confined  to  its  name  alone.  With  its 
winding,  grassy  streets,  bordered  by  tumble-down,   ivy-cov- 


270        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

ered  walls  which  are  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  the  fruit 
trees  leaning  over  them;  its  squat  little  church  like  a  holy- 
father  seated  meditatively  by  the  roadside ;  its  ancient,  octag- 
onal "dove-cote,"  molded  with  that  rude  artistry  of  stone- 
work which  modern  tools  of  precision  are  utterly  unable  to 
imitate;  its  foaming  dam  flanked  by  the  solid  walls  of  the 
barge  lock  and  the  sloping  cobbles  of  the  watering  place  for 
cattle  and  horses  below  it,  all  modified  by  a  not  too  prosaic 
touch  of  modernity  in  the  long  arches  and  battlemented  cop- 
ing of  the  bridge,  massive  as  a  Roman  aqueduct,  which  con- 
ducts the  highway  across  the  Marne  to  Changis,  it  would  be 
hard  to  find  a  place  possessing  at  once  more  of  the  varied 
beauties  typical  of  hamlets  of  the  French  countryside. 

From  St.  Jean-les-Deux-Jumeaux  the  river  sweeps  round 
the  amiable  vale  of  Changis  and  thence  east  and  north  on  its 
tortuous  course  of  24  kilometers  to  Trilport,  disdainfully 
ignoring  the  short  cut  of  4  kilometers  across  the  neck  of  the 
bend  between  the  latter  place  and  St.  Jean.  A  fertile  soil 
blesses  all  this  demesne,  wherein  cattle  and  sheep  abound, 
where  stretches  of  grain  billow  over  the  uplands  and  beet  and 
potato  fields  make  vivid  green  patches  on  the  bottoms,  and 
whose  every  neatly  walled  farmstead  is  a  producing  center 
for  the  most  far-famed  of  the  Brie  cheeses. 

Over  St.  Jean-les-Deux-Jumeaux  looks  down  through  the 
fringes  of  the  Bois  de  Meaux  one  of  the  romantic  ruins  of 
the  Old  World;  that  of  the  Chateau  de  Montceaux,  built  for 
Catherine  de  Medicis,  the  queen  of  Henry  11,  in  1547.  It 
was  later  magnificently  embellished  by  Henry  iv  and  given 
by  him  to  his  beautiful  favorite  Gabrielle  d'Estrees.  It  was 
there,  at  the  Chateau  de  Montceaux,  that  early  in  the  year 
1596,  Henry  iv  was  visited  by  his  ancient  enemy  of  the  Cath- 
olic League,  the  Duke  of  Mayenne,  and  there  that  the  two 


Dream   Country  271 


became  warmly  reconciled.  Maximilian,  Duke  of  Sully, 
related  in  his  memoirs  an  amusing  anecdote  of  the  two, 
which  occurred  immediately  after  the  completion  of  the  for- 
malities of  their  reconciliation.  Walking  into  the  gardens, 
the  king  took  Mayenne  by  the  hand 

and  began  to  walk  him  about  at  a  very  great  pace,  showing  him 
the  alleys  and  telling  all  his  plans  and  the  beauties  and  conveniences 
of  this  mansion.  M.  de  Mayenne,  who  was  incommoded  by  a 
sciatica,  followed  him  as  best  he  could  but  some  way  behind,  drag- 
ging his  limbs  after  him,  very  heavily.  Which  the  king  observing, 
and  that  he  was  mighty  red,  heated,  and  was  puffing  with  thick- 
ness of  breath,  he  turned  to  Rosny  (Sully),  whom  he  held  with 
the  other  hand,  and  said  in  his  ear,  "  If  I  walk  this  fat  carcase 
here  about  much  longer,  then  am  I  avenged  without  much  difficulty 
for  all  the  evils  he  hath  done  us,  for  he  is  a  dead  man."  And 
thereupon  pulling  up,  the  king  said  to  him,  "  Tell  the  truth,  cousin, 
I  go  a  little  too  fast  for  you ;  and  I  have  worked  you  too  hard." 
"  By  my  faith,  sir,"  said  M.  de  Mayenne,  slapping  his  hand  upon 
his  stomach,  "  it  is  true ;  I  swear  to  you  that  I  am  so  tired  and 
out  of  breath  that  I  can  no  more.  If  you  had  continued  walking 
me  about  so  fast,  for  honor  and  courtesy  did  not  permit  me  to  say 
to  you  'hold!  enough!'  and  still  less  to  leave  you,  I  believe  that 
you  would  have  killed  me  without  a  thought  of  it."  Then  the  king 
embraced  him,  clapped  him  on  the  shoulder,  and  said  with  a  laugh- 
ing face,  open  glance,  and  holding  out  his  hand,  "  Come,  take  that, 
cousin,  for,  by  God,  this  is  all  the  injury  and  displeasure  you  shall 
ever  have  from  me;  of  that  I  give  you  my  honor  and  word  with 
all  my  heart,  the  which  I  never  did  and  never  will  violate."  "  By 
God,  sir,"  answered  M.  de  Mayenne,  kissing  the  king's  hand  and 
doing  what  he  could  to  put  one  knee  upon  the  ground,  "  I  believe 
it  and  all  other  generous  things  that  may  be  expected  from  the 
best  and  bravest  prince  of  our  age " 

After  the  death  of  Gabrielle,  Henry  gave  Montceaux  to 
the  Queen,  Mary  de  Medicis,  who  held  many  brilliant  func- 
tions there.  But  it  was  neglected  by  her  son,  Louis  xiii, 
while  Louis  xiv  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  it  whatever, 
preferring  Versailles  and  Marly,  so  that  the  palace  on  which 
Italian  architects  had  lavished  all  the  arts  of  the  Renaissance, 


272         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

fell  into  a  decay  from  which  it  was  never  rescued.  Today, 
lost  among  the  trees  of  the  forest,  a  part  of  one  stone  pavil- 
ion, the  skeletons  of  two  towers  framing  a  doorway,  and 
another  doorway  formed  between  two  moss-grown  columns, 
are  all  that  remain  of  the  once  enchanting  rendezvous  of 
royalty,  beauty,  wit,  and  valor.  How  perish  the  glories  of 
the  world! 

Great,  wind-swept  hills  of  Orxois  look  down  from  the 
east  side  of  the  long  Marne  bend  upon  the  presqu'ile  of  Ar- 
mentieres  and  Isles-les-Meldeuses,  and  the  white  and  elegiac 
church  spires  of  these  hamlets,  pricking  above  the  treetops, 
are  duplicated  on  the  farther  shore  by  those  of  Jaignes  and 
Tancrou  and  Mary-sur-Marne.  Cozy,  smiling  bailiwicks  of 
the  farmers  of  the  neighborhood,  these  places  in  July,  1918, 
heard  the  thunders  of  the  Allied  advance  on  Belleau  and  Bus- 
siares  and  Hautevesnes  roll  down  the  open  slopes  from  the 
northeast,  and  a  thin  trickle  of  the  blood  so  freely  spilt  there 
found  its  way  into  their  quiet  precincts. 

It  was  on  the  hilltop  a  few  hundred  feet  above  the  low- 
roofed  cottages  of  Mary,  with  the  links  of  the  Marne  coiling 
among  the  trees  and  grass  lands  far  below,  that  the  writer 
came,  one  afternoon,  upon  the  village  cemetery.  The  older 
portion,  wherein  "the  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet  sleep," 
is  enclosed  within  a  neat  stone  wall.  But  the  terrible  casual- 
ties of  the  first  and  second  battles  of  the  Marne,  which  had 
raged  over  all  the  surrounding  country,  had  compelled  an 
addition  to  even  this  isolated  place  of  the  dead,  and  just  out- 
side the  wall  were  half-a-dozen  rows  of  graves;  all,  appar- 
ently, at  first  glance,  those  of  French  soldiers.  Each  mound 
was  neatly  rounded  and  planted  with  bright  flowers  and  at 
its  head  each  was  marked  with  a  little  tricolor  flag  and  the 
black  wooden  cross  bearing  a  tricolored  rosette  which  is  the 


Dream   Country  273 


last  tribute  of  France  to  her  fallen  sons.  But  a  second  glance 
discovered  in  one  of  the  rows  5  white  crosses,  scattered 
between  the  black  headboards  of  21  poilus.  They  indicated 
the  resting  places  of  Lieutenant  Arthur  T.  McAllister,  of 
the  Fifty-ninth  United  States  Infantry  and  4  enlisted  men  of 
the  Fifty-eighth  and  Fifty-ninth  Infantry  and  the  Tenth 
Machine-Gun  Battalion,  all  of  the  Fourth  Division.  As 
shown  by  the  legends  on  the  crosses,  all  of  these  soldiers, 
French  as  well  as  Americans,  met  death  on  July  18,  19 18, 
when  the  troops  of  the  Eighth  Infantry  Brigade,  Fourth  Div- 
ision, with  those  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Sixty-fourth 
French  Division,  to  which  they  were  attached,  attacked  and 
carried  Hautevesnes,  Chevillon,  and  the  Sept-Bois. 

Laid  here  by  the  village  cemetery  of  Mary-sur-Marne, 
far  separated  from  the  hosts  of  their  fallen  comrades  who  lie 
in  large  cemeteries  exclusively  American,  the  condition  of 
these  graves  of  Americans  revealed  as  nothing  else  could  the 
touching  tenderness  with  which  the  French  regard  the  memo- 
ries of  the  New  World  allies  fallen  on  her  soil.  On  every 
American  grave  the  flowers  planted  by  the  women  of  Mary 
seemed,  if  possible,  more  carefully  tended  than  those  on  the 
French  graves  adjoining  them,  and  at  the  head  of  each  mound 
a  small  American  flag  fluttered  in  the  same  breeze  which 
stirred  the  folds  of  the  Tricolors  three  or  four  feet  away.  The 
caretaker  of  the  cemetery,  a  white-moustached  veteran  of  the 
war  of  1870,  stood  reverently  with  us  as  we  looked  down 
upon  the  resting  places  of  our  dead  countrymen,  and  at  his 
side  his  little  grandson,  like  the  old  soldier,  straight,  clear- 
eyed,  serious,  shared  our  mood  with  a  depth  of  comprehen- 
sion which  no  child  could  have  felt  who  had  not  himself  lived 
under  the  shadow  of  war.  And  beyond  the  crosses,  white 
and  black,  sparkled  in  the  distance  the  waters  of  the  Marne, 


274         ^^^  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

that  wondrous,  impersonal  incarnation  of  the  immortal  love 
of  country  which  united  the  past  of  the  veteran,  the  present 
of  ourselves,  and  the  future  of  the  lad,  and  whose  silver 
thread,  by  virtue  of  the  mingled  graves  scattered  all  along 
its  shores,  today  knits  together  in  sentiment,  let  us  hope  for 
always,  the  hearts  of  France  and  America. 

Both  a  highway  bridge  and  a  bridge  of  the  Chemin  de 
Fer  de  I'Est,  the  latter  on  the  line  following  the  Ourcq  Val- 
ley from  Meaux  to  Reims,  cross  the  Marne  in  front  of  Mary. 
The  original  stone  spans  were  blown  up  by  the  Germans  on 
the  eve  of  their  retreat,  September  8,  1914,  and  the  super- 
structures have  since  been  replaced  by  steel.  Lines  of  trenches 
and  machine-gun  pits  for  a  long  time  marked  the  river  banks 
above  and  below  the  bridges,  showing  where  the  enemy  vainly 
prepared  to  stand  against  the  Franco-British  advance. 

For  a  time  after  the  withdrawal  of  the  Twenty-sixth 
American  Division  from  the  Marne  counter-offensive,  in  the 
summer  of  191 8,  Mary-sur-Marne  was  the  headquarters  of 
some  of  the  echelons  of  the  New  Englanders.  But  it  was 
at  Lizy-sur-Ourcq,  tucked,  only  a  kilometer  to  the  northwest, 
into  the  last  bend  of  the  Ourcq  River  before  the  latter 
mingles  with  the  Marne,  that  there  was  far  greater  American 
activity  when  General  George  H.  Cameron  had  there  the 
headquarters  of  his  division,  the  Fourth,  while  his  troops 
were  fighting  under  French  command  at  Hautevesnes  and 
Noroy.  Therefore  Lizy,  like  La  Ferte,  than  which  it  is  less 
than  half  as  large,  is  a  place  where  Americans  are  still  re- 
garded with  more  than  casual  interest.  The  crowd  in  the 
main  street,  which  is  narrow  and,  with  its  cobbled  sidewalks 
and  dingy,  two-  and  three-story  buildings,  rather  shabby  in 
general  appearance,  gave  us  those  sort  of  glances  which  need 
no   spoken   word  to  attest  that  they  mean  welcome.     The 


Lizy — tucked  into  the  last  bend  of  the  Ourcq  river 

[Page  27If\ 


.  ^JmJiA  Hi''  : 


^t-i'^^i  '-"^WW 


.ii# 


'« 


^  "'■  -  . 


iu.Ur 


Pomponne — with  Lagny  across  the  river 


[Page  300] 


The  confluence  of  the  Ourcq  and  the  Marne 


[Page  276] 


The  Chateau  at  Lizy-sur-Ourcq 


[Page  275] 


Dream   Country  275 


place,  though  old,  has  few  monuments  beyond  the  parish 
church  and  a  certain  quaint  stone  bridge.  The  latter,  a  relic 
of  the  twelfth  century,  spans  the  slender  Ourcq  with  its  nar- 
row, round  arches,  pillared  piers,  and  mossy  stone  railing, 
on  a  little-frequented  woodland  road  just  above  the  town. 
The  church  is  a  fifteenth-century  edifice,  having  a  roof  line 
serrated,  like  that  of  St.  Crepin's  at  Chateau-Thierry,  with 
deep  gables,  and  a  square  tower  much  broken  by  German 
shells,  which  may  have  been  fired  in  19 14,  when  Maunoury 
and  von  Kliick  were  fighting  for  the  line  of  the  Ourcq,  or 
perhaps  in  July,   19 18. 

During  the  first  battle,  while  the  Germans  remained  in 
possession  from  September  3  to  9,  Lizy  suffered  severely 
at  the  hands  of  pillagers.     Mr.  Toynbee  relates : 

The  contents  of  chemists'  shops,  ironmongers'  shops,  bicycle 
shops  were  loaded  on  motor-lorries  and  horse-wagons  and  hand- 
carts.    "  The  most  eager  pillagers  were  men  wearing  the  Red  Cross 

badge If  one  attempted  to  stop  and  watch  them  at  work, 

they  came  and  thrust  their  revolvers  at  one's  chest."  The  In- 
spector of  Gendarmerie  at  Lizy  states  that  all  the  communes  in  his 
district  were  plundered  in  this  thoroughgoing  fashion,  and  the 
booty  carried  ofif  in  vehicles  commandeered  from  the  inhabitants. 

A  huge  factory  of  ferronickel  is  about  the  only  industry 
which  Lizy  can  boast,  though  in  the  rich,  rolling  uplands 
of  the  Multien,  to  the  eastward,  are  some  of  the  largest  farms 
of  France,  among  them  the  great  estates  of  Beauval  and 
Echampeu,  this  region  furnishing  much  Brie  cheese  to  the 
market  at  Meaux.  A  sixteenth-century  chateau,  solid,  but 
not  large,  and  surrounded  by  a  thickly  wooded  park,  lends 
a  touch  of  dignity  to  the  environs  of  the  typical  country 
town.  But  the  chateau  was  badly  shattered  during  the  days 
of  the  war  and  stands  in  pitiful  need  of  repair  in  the  midst 
of  the  park,  grown  unkempt  from  neglect. 


276         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

It  is  a  matter  of  perhaps  2  kilometers  from  the  edge  of 
Lizy  to  the  mouth  of  the  Ourcq,  a  spot  which  the  writer  was 
resolved  to  visit,  if  only  for  the  sentimental  interest  attach- 
ing to  the  junction  point  of  the  two  so  historic  rivers.  With 
Paul  teetering  the  wheel  madly  we  went  down  a  farm  road 
pitching  steeply  and  stonily  into  the  valley  of  the  Ourcq.  The 
track  grew  narrower  and  fainter  as  we  proceeded,  trees  and 
tall  grass  hedging  it  in,  until  it  led  us  almost  across  the  door- 
step of  a  very  small  cottage  buried  in  the  woods.  The  face 
of  a  Frenchman,  stricken  with  amazement  at  the  sight,  not 
to  mention  the  very  raucous  sound,  of  an  antique  Ford  rush- 
ing past  his  isolated  domicile,  stared  out  at  us,  and  as  we 
rattled  on  he  was  to  be  seen  at  his  door,  waving  his  arms 
and  frantically  shouting  something  to  the  effect  that  there 
was  no  road.  He  spoke  truth.  A  few  hundred  yards  more 
and  we  were  brought  to  a  halt  by  hummocks  of  water  grass, 
and,  clambering  out,  we  pushed  our  way  on  foot  through 
dense  bushes  and  weeds  a  quarter  of  a  mile  farther,  when 
our  exertions  were  rewarded  by  our  arrival  on  marshy  ground 
beside  the  sluggish  confluence  of  the  two  rivers. 

Although  scores  of  miles  of  the  shores  of  both  streams 
had  witnessed  some  of  the  most  desperate  fighting  of  the 
great  war,  it  is  doubtful  if  the  foot  of  either  an  Allied  or 
a  German  soldier  had  pressed  this  soil,  remote  alike  from 
roads,  villages,  and  commanding  ground.  A  water-logged 
scow  lay  moored  to  a  slanting  pole  by  the  opposite  shore  of 
the  Ourcq,  and  beyond  it  could  be  seen  a  road,  cultivated 
fields  and,  some  distance  up  the  Marne,  the  roofs  of  Mary, 
low-eaved  against  the  hillside.  Down  stream,  Isles-les-Mel- 
deuses,  with  its  large  power  dam,  was  invisible  behind  the 
trees  of  a  succession  of  little  islands,  but,  on  our  side  of  the 
Marne,  a  great  embankment  against  the  hillside  supported 


Dream   Country  277 


one  of  the  serpentine  curves  of  the  Canal  de  I'Ourcq  and 
below  it  by  the  river  bank  several  massive  old  abutments, 
like  the  ruins  of  a  chateau  wall,  marked  the  site  of  some 
abandoned  work  of  the  canal.  It  was  altogether  difficult  to 
imagine  that  the  two  placid  arms  of  water  coming  together 
in  such  a  little  wilderness  could  have  flowed  through  the  fields 
on  which  were  decided  the  destinies  of  civilization. 

Lizy  itself  had  to  be  quite  regained  in  order  to  come, 
once  more,  upon  the  road  leading  along  the  hills  of  the  south- 
ward-bending Marne  to  Congis  and  Vareddes  and  thence 
straight  into  Meaux.  In  the  lowlands  on  the  other  side  of 
the  river  lies  Germigny-l'Eveque,  an  ancient  domain  of  the 
Bishops  of  Meaux  and  a  favorite  retreat  of  the  great  Bossuet, 
which,  after  having  been  sold  in  1793,  was  repurchased  for 
the  church  in  recent  years  by  Monseigneur  de  Briey.  Well 
below  it,  where  the  Paris-Metz  Railway  crosses  the  Marne, 
Trilport  raises  its  fourteenth-century  church  spire  against  the 
skirts  of  the  Bois  de  Meaux  from  the  midst  of  truck  gardens 
and  fields  of  carrots  and  turnips.  Here  one  begins  to  sense 
the  proximity  of  a  city,  for  at  Trilport  on  holidays  the  sur- 
face of  the  river  resembles  that  near  Paris,  being  gay  with 
canoes  and  the  boats  of  fishermen,  while  other  pleasure  seek- 
ers from  Meaux  resort  to  the  shades  of  the  Bois  de  Meaux, 
well  quartered  by  avenues  leading  to  sheltered  resting  places. 

But  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Marne,  at  Congis  and 
Vareddes,  lying  at  the  base  of  the  abrupt  escarpment  of  the 
Goele  Plateau  where  obviously  in  ages  past  the  river  has 
flowed,  and  at  Poincy,  where  the  Canal  de  I'Ourcq  deflects 
from  the  river  in  the  direction  of  Meaux,  the  traveler  again 
finds  himself  suddenly  in  the  midst  of  battle  fields.  It  was 
in  the  shelter  of  the  hills  about  Congis  and  Vareddes  that 
von  Kliick's  army  had  some  of  its  strongest  and  most  heavily 


278         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

concentrated  artillery  positions,  the  guns  firing  westward  over 
the  open  uplands  of  the  Goele  Plateau,  which,  around  Mon- 
thyon  and  Penchard,  Chambry,  Barcy,  and  Marcilly,  all 
directly  north  of  Meaux,  was  the  scene  of  the  desperate  fight- 
ing of  Maunoury's  army  in  its  assaults  on  von  Kliick's  right 
flank.  On  this  plateau,  indeed,  the  first  Battle  of  the  Marne 
was  virtually  decided,  for  when  von  Kliick  had  been  driven 
from  it  across  the  Ourcq,  the  whole  German  plan  of  cam- 
paign for  enveloping  the  Allied  armies  and  capturing  Paris 
in  one  grand  coup,  fell  to  pieces. 

Every  corner  of  these  spreading  hills  looking  down  upon 
the  Marne  and  the  far  vista  of  Meaux,  blue  in  the  distance, 
was  scored  in  the  fighting  which  swept  back  and  forth  across 
it,  and  after  the  enemy's  retreat  it  was  sown  with  the  bodies 
of  the  slain,  with  waste  ammunition,  and  with  demolished  Ger- 
man cannon  and  limbers.  Many  of  the  French  dead  were  buried 
where  they  fell  and  each  grave  was  neatly  fenced  and  marked 
with  a  black  cross.  On  a  day  of  commemoration,  such  as 
the  seventh  of  September,  1919,  when  the  fifth  anniversary  of 
the  battle  was  celebrated  and  the  graves  decorated,  it  is  a  sad, 
but  an  inspiring,  sight  to  see,  as  the  writer  then  saw,  the  long, 
drooping  palm  branches  and  French  flags  waving  in  the  wind 
over  each  of  these  sepulchers,  dotted,  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
see,  all  over  the  grain  fields  and  meadows  and  along  the  edges 
of  the  woods  on  the  scenes  of  Homeric  conflict  at  Barcy  and 
the  Chambry  cemetery,  Marcilly,  Champfleury  Farm,  the 
Quatre  Routes,  Poligny  Farm,  and  scores  of  other  places 
famous  in  the  story  of  that  struggle. 

Congis  and  Vareddes  suffered  the  customary  German 
frightfulness.  Both  places  were  badly  damaged  by  shell  fire 
and  at  Vareddes,  which  is  a  large  village  of  nearly  1,000  peo- 
ple, the  Germans  seized  20  hostages  whom  they  carried  away 


Dream   Country  279 


with  them  when  they  retreated.  On  the  first  day  of  the 
retreat  the  hostages  were  forced  to  march  17  miles.  Says 
Michelin's  Guide  to  the  Battlefields  of  the  Marne,  191 4: 

M.  Jourdain,  aged  yy  and  M.  Milliardet,  aged  78,  taken  away 
with  only  slippers  on  their  feet,  were  the  first  to  fall  from  exhaus- 
tion; they  were  shot  point-blank.  Soon  after,  M.  Vapaille  suffered 
the  same  fate.  The  next  day,  M.  Terre,  an  invalid,  fell  and  was 
killed  with  revolver  shots ;  M.  Croix  and  M.  Llevin  stumbled  in 
their  turn  and  were  also  shot.  All  three  were  from  58  to  64  years 
of  age.  Finally,  M.  Mesnil,  aged  67,  utterly  exhausted,  gave  in; 
his  skull  was  smashed  in  with  blows  from  the  butt  end  of  a  rifle. 
The  other  hostages,  better  able  to  endure,  held  on  as  far  as  Chauny 
and  were  sent  to  Germany  by  rail.  They  were  repatriated  five 
months  later. 

Outrages  of  similar  nature  were  committed  in  every  vil- 
lage on  the  Goele  Plateau  which  was  occupied  by  the  Germans 
during  the  battle.  But  let  us  turn  from  such  horrors  to  sub- 
jects less  revolting. 

Although  there  are  a  number  of  large  farms  in  the  region 
around  the  rural  community  of  Vareddes,  it  is  an  odd  fact 
that  many  of  them  have  been  formed  by  the  leasing  to  one 
proprietor  of  numerous  almost  unbelievably  small  holdings. 
It  is  said  that  around  the  town  800  hectares,  or  about  2,000 
acres,  of  land  are  held  in  no  less  than  15,000  parcels,  an  aver- 
age of  less  than  one-seventh  of  an  acre  each.  One  farmer 
has  contrived  for  his  own  use  a  farm  of  respectable  propor- 
tions by  buying  or  leasing  381  such  parcels,  while  the  public 
park  of  Vareddes,  containing  a  little  less  than  four  acres  of 
ground,  was  formed  by  uniting  31  individual  bits  of  ground 
of  which  the  largest  was  about  one-fifth  of  an  acre  in  extent, 
while  the  smallest  contained  34  centiares,  or  about  that  num- 
ber of  square  yards ! 

Such  tiny  holdings,  when  still  in  the  hands  of  an  individ- 
ual proprietor,  are  devoted  usually  to  the  intensive  culture  of 

19 


280         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

garden  vegetables.  Sorrel  for  medicinal  purposes  is  also  cul- 
tivated, many  mushrooms  are  raised  in  the  abandoned  gal- 
leries of  rock  quarries  on  the  hillsides  and  there  are,  in  places, 
rather  extensive  plantations  of  gnarled  elms,  the  wood  of 
which  is  fashioned,  at  a  factory  in  Vareddes,  into  wagon- 
wheel  hubs,  though  these  articles  are  less  used  now  than  for- 
merly. 

The  Marne  makes  the  last  southward  sweep  of  its  bend 
from  Vareddes  past  Poincy  and  Trilport  and  then  turns  east 
to  Meaux  around  the  base  of  the  pleasant  Brie  Hills  whence 
flows  the  Ru  des  Cygnes,  famous  trade  mark  of  Brie  cheeses. 
On  this  tiny  stream  stand  the  villages,  nurtured  by  fruit 
orcharding  and  dairying,  of  Fablains  and  Brinches,  Vincelles 
and  Routigny,  the  manufacturing  town  of  Nanteuil-les-Meaux 
and  that  St.  Fiacre  where,  in  the  year  670,  died  and  was 
buried  the  hermit  of  that  name,  an  Irish  nobleman  by  birth, 
who  lived  in  the  adjacent  forest  under  the  protection  of  the 
Bishops  of  Meaux,  clearing  the  land  and  planting  fruit  trees 
and  thus  becoming,  after  his  canonization,  the  patron  saint  of 
gardeners  in  general  and  of  the  Brie  in  particular.  It  is  an 
odd  fact  that  the  word  fiacre,  which  was  in  common  use 
before  the  extensive  employment  of  automobiles  as  the  name 
for  the  French  hackney  coach,  was  first  applied  to  the  vehi- 
cles that  carried  pilgrims  from  Paris  to  the  tomb  of  the  saint 
in  the  hills  just  beyond  Meaux. 

The  Soissons-Meaux  highway  does  not  follow  the  Marne 
but  strikes  boldly  across  the  hills,  from  whose  crests  a  beau- 
tiful view  of  the  city  is  outspread  with  the  mass  of  St.  £ti- 
enne's  Cathedral  overtowering  it,  and  then  descends  into  the 
streets  through  the  eastern  suburbs  past  patches  of  cultiva- 
tion which  gradually  merge  into  the  gardens  along  the  Rue 
St.  Nicholas. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

MEAUX 

IT  IS  a  far  cry  down  the  ages  from  the  twilight  dawn  of 
French  history  when  Meaux,  known  to  the  Romans  as 
latinum,  was  the  capital  of  the  minor  Gallic  tribe,  the  Meldi, 
to  the  present  day,  when,  as  a  manufacturing  center  of  no 
mean  importance,  it  is  the  chief  emporium  of  the  rich  Haute- 
Brie  and  Multien  districts,  a  market  of  grain  and  preserved 
vegetables,  and  perhaps  the  largest  center  of  France  for  the 
production  and  handling  of  flour  and  cheese.  In  the  long 
interval  between  those  two  epochs,  Meaux  has  seen  the  Ro- 
mans pass  from  Gaul  and  the  kingdom  of  Austrasia  rise  to 
dominion  over  the  lands  in  which  it  lay.  It  saw  the  Nor- 
mans come,  burning  and  pillaging,  in  865 ;  paid  tribute  to  the 
Counts  of  Vermandois  and  of  Champagne;  won  its  communal 
charter  in  1179  and  was  joined  to  the  royal  domain  a  cen- 
tury later;  experienced,  owing  to  its  perennial  importance  as 
a  religious  focus,  eight  great  councils  of  prelates  between  the 
ninth  and  the  sixteenth  centuries;  saw  the  Jacquerie  cut 
down  under  its  walls  in  1356  by  the  French  and  English 
nobles;  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  English  in  1422  only  to 
be  rescued  by  the  French  seven  years  later  under  the  divine 
stimulus  of  Jeanne  d'Arc;  suffered  many  sieges  and  disorders 
during  the  wars  of  religion,  in  which  for  a  time  it  was  the 
nerve  center  of  Protestant  activity;  became  famous  as  the 
episcopal  seat  of  Bossuet,  "the  Eagle  of  Meaux,"  who  almost 
drove  Protestantism  from  France,  and  was  laid  under  con- 
tribution by  the  armies  of  Germany  and  her  allies  in  1652, 
1814-15,  and  1870. 

The  history  of  Meaux  is  enriched  by  numerous  memoirs 

281 


282         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

of  those  olden  times,  curious  and  moving.  One  which  gives, 
perhaps  as  well  as  any  other,  a  flavor  of  the  precarious  life 
of  the  medieval  metropolis  of  the  Brie,  is  the  quaint  account 
of  Jean  Froissart  of  the  defeat  of  the  Jacquerie,  the  misera- 
ble peasantry  which  in  despair  had  revolted  against  the  cruel- 
ties and  exactions  of  the  nobles  during  the  black  days  of  the 
reign  of  John  11,  in  the  Hundred  Years'  War.  Said  the  faith- 
ful chronicler  of  the  first  half  of  that  dreary  struggle  between 
France  and  England;  himself,  naturally,  no  democrat  but 
an  ardent  believer  in  the  rectitude  of  the  feudal  aristocracy: 

At  the  time  these  wicked  men  (the  Jacquerie)  were  overrunning 
the  country,  the  Earl  of  Foix  and  his  cousin,  the  Captal  of  Buch, 
were  returning  from  a  croisade  in  Prussia.  They  were  informed, 
on  their  entering  France,  of  the  distress  the  nobles  were  in;  and 
they  learned,  at  the  city  of  Chalons,  that  the  Duchess  of  Orleans 
and  300  other  ladies,  under  the  protection  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans, 
were  fled  to  Meaux  on  account  of  these  disturbances.  The  two 
knights  resolved  to  go  to  the  assistance  of  these  ladies  and  to 
reinforce  them  with  all  their  might,  notwithstanding  the  captal 
was  attached  to  the  English;  but  at  that  time  there  was  a  truce 
between  the  two  kings.  They  might  have  in  their  company  about 
60  lances.  They  were  most  cheerfully  received  on  their  arrival  at 
Meaux  by  the  ladies  and  damsels ;  for  these  Jacks  and  peasants 
of  Brie  had  heard  what  number  of  ladies,  married  and  unmarried, 
and  young  children  of  quality,  were  in  Meaux;  they  had  united 
themselves  with  those  of  Valois  and  were  on  their  road  thither. 
On  the  other  hand,  those  of  Paris  had  also  been  informed  of  the 
treasures  Meaux  contained  and  had  set  out  from  that  place  in 
crowds :  having  met  the  others  they  amounted  together  to  9,000  men 
and  their  forces  were  augmenting  every  step  they  advanced. 

They  came  to  the  gates  of  the  town,  which  the  inhabitants 
opened  to  them  and  allowed  them  to  enter;  they  did  so  in  such 
numbers  that  all  the  streets  were  quite  filled  as  far  as  the  Market 
Place,  which  is  tolerably  strong,  but  it  required  to  be  guarded, 
though  the  river  Marne  nearly  surrounds  it.  The  noble  dames 
who  were  lodged  there,  seeing  such  multitudes  rushing  toward 
them,  were  exceedingly  frightened.  On  this,  the  two  lords  and 
their  company  advanced  to  the  gate  of  the  Market  Place,  which 


Meaux  283 

they  had  opened,  and  marching  under  the  banners  of  the  Earl  of 
Foix  and  Duke  of  Orleans,  and  the  pennon  of  the  Captal  of  Buch, 
posted  themselves  in  front  of  this  peasantry,  who  were  badly  armed. 
When  these  banditti  perceived  such  a  troop  of  gentlemen,  so  well 
equipped,  sally  forth  to  guard  the  Market  Place,  the  foremost  of 
them  began  to  fall  back.  The  gentlemen  then  followed  them,  using 
their  lances  and  swords.  When  they  felt  the  weight  of  their  blows, 
they,  through  fear,  turned  about  so  fast  they  fell  one  over  the 
other.  All  manner  of  armed  persons  then  rushed  out  of  the  bar- 
riers, drove  them  before  them,  striking  them  down  like  beasts  and 
clearing  the  town  of  them ;  for  they  kept  neither  regularity  nor 
order,  slaying  so  many  that  they  were  tired.  They  flung  them  in 
great  heaps  into  the  river.  In  short,  they  killed  upward  of  7,000. 
Not  one  would  have  escaped  if  they  had  chosen  to  pursue  them 
farther. 

On  the  return  of  the  men-at-arms,  they  set  fire  to  the  town 
of  Meaux,  burnt  it;  and  all  the  peasants  they  could  find  were  shut 
up  in  it  because  they  had  been  of  the  party  of  the  Jacks.  Since 
this  discomfiture  which  happened  to  them  at  Meaux,  they  never  col- 
lected again  in  any  great  bodies ;  for  the  young  Enguerrand  de 
Coucy  had  plenty  of  gentlemen  under  his  orders,  who  destroyed 
them,  wherever  they  could  be  met  with,  without  mercy. 

More  fortunate  in  1914  than  during  the  time,  a  century- 
earlier,  when  the  Prussians  and  their  confederates  exacted 
huge  tributes  from  the  city  and  visited  great  indignities  upon 
its  people,  Meaux  did  not  suffer  the  blasting  presence  of  the 
Germans  except  for  a  fleeting  foray  by  some  cavalry  patrols 
which  followed  up  the  British  retirement  across  the  Marne 
bridges  on  September  2-3.  In  their  retreat  the  British 
destroyed  the  floating  wash-houses  and  boats  on  the  river 
which  might  have  served  the  enemy  as  pontoons,  and  blew 
up  the  Market  Bridge  and  the  foot  bridge  below  it.  But  a 
week  later  they  reentered  the  town,  which,  meanwhile,  had 
been  filled  to  overflowing  with  French  wounded  from  the 
battle  fields  on  the  Goele  Plateau.  These  unfortunates 
received  priceless  aid  from  the  few  inhabitants  who  had 
remained  in  the  place  and  were  effectively  organized  by  the 


284         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 


heroic  bishop,  Monseigneur  Marbeau.  A  few  shells  fell  in  the 
suburbs  but  they  did  little  damage  and  the  charming  old 
town,  built  around  a  U-shaped  bend  of  the  Marne,  is  there- 
fore still  intact  today. 

Elevated  above  the  crooked  and  often  narrow  streets  of 
the  city,  the  Cathedral  of  St.  Etienne,  occupying  a  command- 
ing site  at  the  head  of  the  Rue  St.  Remy,  is  easily  the  out- 
standing landmark  of  Meaux.  The  edifice  excited  the  dis- 
criminating admiration  of  the  master  of  French  letters,  who 
gave  his  impression  of  it  in  a  few  words  in  The  Rhine.  Said 
Hugo: 

The  cathedral  is  a  noble-looking  building;  its  erection  was  begun 
in  the  twelfth  century  and  continued  to  the  sixteenth.  Several 
repairs  have  lately  been  made  but  it  is  not  yet  finished;  for  of 
the  two  spires  projected  by  the  architect,  one  only  is  completed; 
the  other,  which  has  been  begun,  is  hidden  under  a  covering  of 
slate.  The  middle  doorway  and  that  on  the  right  are  of  the  four- 
teenth century;  the  one  on  the  left  is  of  the  fifteenth  century.  They 
are  all  very  handsome,  though  time  has  left  its  impress  upon  their 
venerable  appearance.  I  tried  to  decipher  the  bas-reliefs.  The 
pediment  of  the  left  doorway  represents  the  history  of  John  the 
Baptist;  but  the  rays  of  the  sun,  which  fell  full  on  the  fagade, 
prevented  me  from  satisfying  my  curiosity.  The  interior  of  the 
church  is  superb:  upon  the  choir  are  large  o;?^ees,  and  at  its  entry 
two  beautiful  altars  of  the  fifteenth  century;  but  unfortunately,  in 
the  true  taste  of  the  peasantry,  they  are  daubed  over  with  yellow 
oil-paintings. 

To  the  left  of  the  choir  I  saw  a  very  pretty  marble  statue  of 
a  warrior  of  the  sixteenth  century.  "(Philippe  de  Castille.)"  It  was 
in  a  kneeling  position,  without  armor,  and  had  no  inscription.  Op- 
posite is  another;  but  this  one  bears  an  inscription  —  and  much  it 
requires  it,  to  be  able  to  discover  in  the  hard  and  unmeaning  marble 
the  stern  countenance  of  Benigne  Bossuet.  I  saw  his  episcopal 
throne,  which  is  of  very  fine  wainscoting,  in  the  style  of  Louis 
XIV.  .... 

On  going  out  of  the  cathedral  I  found  that  the  sun  had  hid 
himself,  which  circumstance  enabled  me  to  examine  the  fagade. 
The  pediment  of  the  central  doorway  is  the  most  curious.     The 


Meaux  285 

inferior  compartment  represents  Jeanne,  wife  of  Philippe-le-Bel, 
from  the  deniers  of  whom  the  church  was  built  after  her  death. 
The  Queen  of  France,  her  cathedral  in  her  hand,  is  represented  at 
the  gates  of  Paradise;  St.  Peter  has  opened  the  folding-doors  to 
her.  Behind  the  queen  is  the  handsome  King  Philippe,  with  a  sad 
and  rueful  countenance.  The  queen,  who  is  gorgeously  attired  and 
exceedingly  well  sculptured,  points  out  to  St.  Peter  the  pauvre 
diable  of  a  king,  and  with  a  side  look  and  shrug  of  the  shoulaer, 
seems  to  say: 

"  Bah !    Allow  him  to  pass  into  the  bargain." 

The  uncompleted  tower  hidden  under  a  covering  of  slate, 
which  Victor  Hugo  remarked,  is  in  the  same  state  today  as 
it  was  in  his  time.  It  is  known  as  "The  Black  Tower." 
Although  its  condition  destroys  the  symmetry  of  the  church's 
exterior,  the  building  is  too  majestic  to  be  rendered  ugly  by 
even  so  serious  a  blemish.  The  one  completed  tower,  whose 
great  corner  buttresses,  sloping  steeply  upward,  impart  to 
it  an  appearance  of  almost  Egyptian  solidity,  is  so  tall,  250 
feet,  that  on  clear  days  the  heights  of  Montmartre  and  Mont 
Valerien,  in  Paris,  may  be  seen  from  it.  The  body  of  the 
cathedral  is  275  feet  long  and  105  feet  high.  The  rose  win- 
dow over  the  middle  one  of  the  three  ogival  doorways  con- 
tains exquisite  old  stained  glass  and  the  front  of  the  edifice, 
especially  about  the  doorways,  is  encrusted  with  delicate 
Gothic  carvings  and  statuettes,  much  of  the  work  sadly  muti- 
lated by  weather,  as  the  building  was  constructed  of  a  very 
soft  variety  of  stone.  During  the  numerous  disorders  of 
which  the  church  has  been  a  witness,  the  hands  of  vandals 
have  added  much  to  the  damage  wrought  by  time.  Another, 
smaller  entrance  of  notably  lovely  sculpturing  opens  from 
the  north  ofif  the  choir  upon  the  courtyard  of  the  Chapter 
House.  It  is  called  the  Porte  Maugarni,  immortalizing  the 
name  of  a  criminal  who  was  hanged  in  front  of  it  in  1372 
by  the  bailiff  of  Meaux.     The  canons  of  the  cathedral  were 


286         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

greatly  incensed  at  this  desecration  of  ecclesiastical  ground 
and  entered  into  a  long  lawsuit  against  the  bailiff  on  account 
of  it. 

But,  after  all,  the  crowning  glory  of  St.  fitienne  de  Meaux 
resides  in  the  extraordinary  height  and  lightness  of  its  in- 
terior. The  superb  clustered  columns,  rising  unbroken  from 
the  floor  to  the  spring  of  the  roof  groins  and  lending  to  the 
nave  and  the  side  aisles  their  awe-inspiring  altitude,  supported 
in  the  original  church  a  series  of  vaulted  galleries  above  the 
aisles,  like  those  of  Notre  Dame  de  Paris.  These  galleries 
were  removed  about  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century,  thus 
leaving  the  upper  part  clear. 

The  author  of  Les  Miserables  would  have  been  thrilled 
to  eloquence  could  he  have  seen,  as  the  present  writer  was 
privileged  to  do,  the  interior  of  St.  ^fetienne's  decorated  for 
the  celebration  of  mass  on  September  7,  1919;  the  first  an- 
niversary of  the  first  Battle  of  the  Marne  to  occur  after  the 
close  of  the  war.  Conducted  by  several  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished French  prelates  and  attended  by  eminent  repre- 
sentatives of  all  the  Allied  powers  and  by  a  vast  assemblage 
of  people,  many  of  them  from  Paris,  this  commemorative 
religious  service  saw  the  tall  arches  between  the  aisles  and 
nave  draped  with  tricolor  bunting,  and  the  lovely  shrine  of 
Jeanne  d'Arc,  in  which  The  Maid,  dressed  in  armor,  is  clasp- 
ing her  banner  to  her  bosom,  similarly  decorated.  But  above 
and  before  all,  from  the  narrow  arches  composing  the  mighty 
vault  of  the  choir,  depended  great  flags  of  the  Allied  nations, 
those  of  Great  Britain  and  Italy  at  the  sides  and  those  of 
France  and  the  United  States  in  the  center.  Such  a  setting, 
on  such  an  occasion,  no  American  could  ever  forget,  or  re- 
call without  a  thrill  of  pride. 

The  pulpit  from  which  Bossuet  preached  as  many  eloquent 


Meaux  287 

sermons  as  he  delivered  before  the  court  of  Louis  xiv,  is 
still,  in  reconstructed  form,  the  pulpit  of  the  cathedral,  stand- 
ing at  the  right  of  the  altar;  his  tomb,  marked  with  a  black 
marble  tablet,  is  in  the  choir,  and  the  spirited  monument  to 
him,  executed  by  the  sculptor,  Ernest  Dubois,  in  1907,  stands 
in  the  north  aisle  near  the  main  entrance.  The  fiery  preacher, 
who  was  said  to  be  the  only  living  man  able  to  impress  Louis 
XIV  with  any  sense  of  moral  or  religious  obligation,  is  rep- 
resented in  his  priestly  robes,  preaching  with  upraised  hand. 
Below  him  is  the  symbolic  eagle,  with  outspread  wings,  and 
at  the  foot  of  the  pedestal  are  the  figures  of  five  great  per- 
sonages whose  lives  were  profoundly  influenced  by  Bossuet. 
They  are.  Marshal  Turenne  and  the  Prince  of  Conde,  the 
brilliant  military  leaders  of  the  epoch  of  French  triumphs 
under  Louis  the  Magnificent,  of  whom  the  former  was  con- 
verted by  Bossuet  while  the  latter  was  his  intimate  friend; 
Mile  de  Lavalliere,  also  converted  by  "the  Eagle"  and  turned 
nun  after  she  had  been  supplanted  in  the  affections  of  the 
king  by  Mme  de  Montespan;  Henrietta,  Queen  of  England, 
whose  death  inspired  Bossuet  to  one  of  his  most  eloquent 
funeral  sermons,  and  the  Dauphin,  Louis,  whose  tutor  the 
great  churchman  had  been. 

Meaux,  especially  in  its  ecclesiastical  precincts,  is,  indeed, 
overshadowed  by  the  memory  of  Benigne  Bossuet,  who  dom- 
inated the  spiritual  affairs  of  France  during  his  lifetime,  which 
ended  in  1704,  almost  as  completely  as  his  royal  master  dom- 
inated its  political  existence.  Hard  by  the  cathedral  is  the 
episcopal  palace,  where  he,  as  well  as  many  other  bishops 
before  and  after  him,  lived  and  worked,  for  it  dates  from 
the  twelfth  century  though  it  was  altered  in  the  sixteenth 
and  seventeenth.  One  of  the  chief  points  of  interest  is  the 
little  pavilion  known  as  "  Bossuet's  Study,"  on  the  site  of 


288         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

a  tower  of  the  ancient  fortifications  whose  line  is  now  oc- 
cupied by  the  terrace  of  the  handsome  palace  gardens.  This 
pavilion  is  said  to  have  been  his  favorite  retreat  when  he  was 
in  Meaux  and  here  he  composed  many  of  his  sermons  and 
sometimes  slept  and  ate  when  engrossed  in  an  important  piece 
of  work. 

Another  bishop  than  Bossuet  is  credited  with  having  built 
the  inclined  plane  that  leads  from  the  ground  to  the  second 
floor  of  the  palace,  desiring,  so  the  story  goes,  to  ascend  to 
his  apartments  without  dismounting  from  his  mule!  In  this 
building  with  its  simple  roof  lines  and  windows,  its  arched 
doorways  and  balcony  on  the  side  of  the  garden  supported 
by  nine  chaste  arcades,  are  rooms  of  fine  Renaissance  archi- 
tecture, some  of  them  containing  tapestries,  paintings,  and 
sculptures  of  very  great  value.  Two  of  these  rooms  on  the 
second  floor  were  occupied  by  Louis  xvi  and  Marie  Antoinette 
on  their  return  from  Varennes.  In  the  same  room  which  was 
then  used  by  the  king.  Napoleon  slept  on  the  night  of  Feb- 
ruary 15-16,  1 8 14,  during  the  campaign  before  Paris  and 
it  was  again  occupied  by  royalty  in  1828,  when  Charles  x 
lodged  there.  In  1870,  General  von  Moltke  stayed  once  in 
the  palace  during  the  German  advance  into  France,  saying 
while  there,  "In  five  days,  or  a  week  at  most,  we  shall  be 
in  Paris,"  forgetting  the  possibility  of  a  siege. 

Just  behind  the  bishop's  palace  and  close  to  the  right  rear 
end  of  the  cathedral,  stands  a  quaint  old  stone  building  with 
tiny,  deep  windows,  an  oddly  sloped  roof  at  its  southern  end 
and  a  round  turret  at  the  opposite  extremity.  Its  most  rare 
and  attractive  feature,  however,  is  the  one  described  by 
Victor  Hugo,  who,  in  spite  of  his  omnivorous  hunger  for 
information,  seems  not  to  have  learned  the  name  or  character 
of  the  building. 


Meaux  289 

To  the  right,  on  entering  the  town,  is  a  curious  gateway  lead- 
ing to  an  old  church  —  the  cathedral;  and  behind  it  an  old  habita- 
tion, half  fortification,  and  flanked  with  turrets.  There  is  also  a 
court,  into  which  I  boldly  entered,  where  I  perceived  an  old  woman 
who  was  busily  knitting.  The  good  dame  heeded  me  not,  thus  afford- 
ing me  an  opportunity  of  studying  a  very  handsome  staircase  of 
stone  and  woodwork,  which,  supported  upon  two  arches  and 
crowned  by  a  neat  landing,  led  to  an  old  dwelling.  I  had  not  time 
to  take  a  sketch,  for  which  I  am  sorry,  as  it  was  the  first  staircase 
of  the  kind  I  had  ever  seen. 

This  building  is  the  Chapter  House  of  the  cathedral  and 
it  was  originally  erected  sometime  in  the  thirteenth  century 
as  a  granary,  being  afterward  altered  to  a  dwelling  place 
for  the  canons  of  the  cathedral.  Its  outside  staircase,  as 
might  be  conjectured,  is  famous  among  archaeologists. 

The  straight,  narrow  street  of  La  Cordonnerie  leads 
steeply  down  from  the  cathedral  upon  the  Quai  Victor  Hugo, 
from  the  balustrade  of  which  one  commands  a  view  of  the 
whole  abrupt  bend  of  the  Marne  within  the  city;  the  bridges, 
overshadowed  by  their  remarkable  old  mills,  above;  the  at- 
tractive promenades  of  the  Trinitaires  and  the  Place  La- 
fayette, shaded  by  huge  old  trees,  below,  and,  across  the  river 
in  the  peninsula,  the  trade  and  manufacturing  section  hing- 
ing upon  the  market  place  and  the  Rue  Cornillon,  with  the 
Cavalry  Barracks  in  the  background.  On  the  point  of  the 
peninsula,  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  the  river,  once  stood 
the  Roman  fortress  of  latinum,  which  was  later  succeeded 
by  other  fortresses  protected  on  their  fourth  side  by  a  moat 
across  the  peninsula,  now  converted  into  the  Canal  de  Cor- 
nillon. The  district,  once  all  martial,  is  today  given  to  less 
impressive  but  more  remunerative  uses,  for  it  is  in  and  around 
the  Place  du  Marche  that  the  city's  enormous  trade  in  Brie 
cheeses  is  conducted,  and  on  market  days  it  is  thronged  with 
farmers  from  all  over  the  surrounding  country. 


290         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 


Scarcely  less  striking  than  the  cathedral  and,  in  a  sense, 
even  more  rare  and  curious,  were  the  ancient  mills  of  the 
Market  Bridge,  which  withstood  the  blowing  up  of  that  struc- 
ture in  1 9 14  only  to  fall  prey  to  a  conflagration  in  1920.  In 
losing  these  mills,  together  with  several  millions  of  francs 
worth  of  flour  and  grain,  Meaux  was  robbed  not  only 
of  its  most  picturesque  group  of  buildings  but  of  a  great 
share  of  one  of  its  chief  industries,  for  the  mills  of 
Meaux  supply  Paris  with  the  greater  part  of  its  flour. 
Dating  from  the  sixteenth  century  and  buJlt  entirely 
across  the  bed  of  the  river,  the  old  mills  rested  upon  a 
number  of  irregularly  planted  groups  of  piles;  a  fav- 
orite device  of  the  middle  ages  for  utilizing  water  power. 
Half-a-dozen  buildings  of  entirely  different  types  of  archi- 
tecture but  all  five  or  six  stories  high  and  all  made  of  wood, 
some  of  them  strikingly  timbered,  stood  huddled  along  the 
bridge.  Roofs  of  flat  or  pointed  tiles  laid  at  every  imagina- 
ble angle,  gables,  chimneys,  exterior  additions  clinging  like 
turrets  to  the  sides,  projecting  joists  and  pieces  of  wall,  gave 
to  the  mills  an  extraordinarily  fantastic  appearance,  while 
below  them  the  great  wheels  foaming  through  the  green  river 
waters  added  an  illusion  of  motion  to  their  grotesque  bulk 
which  made  them  seem  almost  like  strange,  myriad-legged 
monsters  slowly  wallowing  up  the  channel  of  the  Marne. 
Another  set  of  four  mills,  built  halfway  out  on  the  Pont  de 
I'Echelle,  several  blocks  below  the  older  ones,  are  far  less 
curious  than  the  latter,  having  been  rebuilt  in  1845,  ^^  stone 
set  upon  stone  piers. 

A  Hotel  de  Ville  of  the  dignified  architecture  usual  to 
French  public  buildings,  and  a  small  but  excellent  museum 
and  public  library  connected  therewith,  a  number  of  hand- 
some modern  residences  in  the  suburban  district  along  the 


The  charming  old  town  of  Meaux 


{Page  291\ 


The  ancient  mills  and  the  ruins  of  the  ^Market  Bridge,  Meaux 

\Page  290] 


Charenton,  where  the  M^rne  enters  the  Seine 


[Page  304] 


i'  ,*.••' 


V. 

■4*    1 


■^'■•'!* 


V 


The  placid  river  at  Chelles 

[Page  302] 


Meaux  291 

Chaussee  de  Paris,  some  fine  monuments  of  the  present  era  to 
notable  men  of  the  city  in  the  pretty  parks  and  along  the  Bou- 
levard Jean  Rose,  which  traces  the  line  of  the  old  fortifica- 
tions, all  leave  in  the  mind  of  the  visitor  a  pleasant  impression 
of  Meaux  in  its  role  as  a  modern  city,  while  the  flavor  of 
antiquity  lent  by  the  cathedral  and  the  mills  is  heightened  by 
the  old  houses  here  and  there  dotting  the  narrower  thorough- 
fares of  ancient  origin. 

Officially,  Meaux  was  never  much  of  a  center  for  the 
activities  of  the  Americans  in  olive  drab  of  war  times,  for 
the  reason  that  it  was  far  to  one  side  of  the  duly  defined 
American  areas.  In  point  of  fact,  however,  from  June  until 
September,  19 18,  it  was  thronged  with  those  who  were  about 
the  business  of  the  United  States  divisions  fighting  along  the 
upper  Marne,  on  the  battle  line  between  Chateau-Thierry  and 
Soissons,  and,  finally,  along  the  Vesle.  It  was  the  headquar- 
ters of  our  Third  Army  Corps,  under  Major  General  Robert 
Lee  Bullard,  before  the  counter-offensive  of  July  18,  and  at 
Meaux  a  large  number  of  the  troops  of  the  "Yankee  Divis- 
ion" celebrated  July  4,  19 18,  with  a  parade,  an  athletic  meet 
and  a  band  concert.  Few  who  were  in  the  city  on  that  or 
other  occasions  will  soon  forget  the  grateful  shade  trees  of 
the  Trinitaires  along  the  river  shore,  or,  looming  against  the 
sky,  the  heavy  cathedral  tower  with  the  pigeons  circling  about 
it.  For  Meaux,  although  in  this  motor  age  almost  a  suburb 
of  Paris,  has  a  charm  which  is  all  its  own.  It  carries  itself 
proudly,  too,  and  seems,  as  Victor  Hugo  said,  "  to  be  proud 
that  Meaux  is  not  Paris." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

ILE-DE-I^RANCE 

AMONG  the  country  folk  about  Trilport  there  is  a  saying 
still  extant,  handed  down  from  the  Middle  Ages,  that 
when  they  cross  the  Marne  at  that  place  on  the  way  to 
Meaux,  they  are  "going  into  France."  It  is  to  be  presumed 
that  in  using  the  phrase  in  the  old  days,  people  meant  by  it 
that  they  were  going  into  the  province  of  Ile-de-France, 
whose  eastern  limits  ran  somewhere  near  Meaux.  It  is 
through  the  heart  of  that  region  that  the  Marne  flows  from 
the  city  of  Bossuet  until  it  enters  the  Seine  at  Paris. 

A  pleasant,  poplar-shaded  road  conducts  one  out  past  the 
Trinitaires  and  southward  by  the  Apple-Tree  Mill,  lying  pic- 
turesquely on  an  arm  of  the  river,  to  the  square  of  the  manu- 
facturing village  of  Villenoy,  beneath  its  three  tall  lime  trees. 
A  huge  beet-sugar  factory,  one  of  the  largest  in  France,  with 
two  tall  chimneys,  lies  close  to  the  Marne  shore,  while  saw- 
mills and  other  industrial  plants  surround  the  village,  whose 
only  center  of  beauty  is  its  parish  church,  Ste.  Aldegonde's. 
It  was  erected  in  1648  by  the  then  Bishop  of  Meaux,  Monseig- 
neur  Seguier.  It  contains  some  excellent  paintings  and  stands 
in  the  middle  of  the  parish  cemetery,  whose  graveled  walks 
are  bordered  with  hedges  of  boxwood  so  tall  that  they  hide 
the  time-worn  tombs  behind  them. 

Across  the  river  below  Villenoy,  Mareuil-les-Meaux,  and 
Voisins  lie  couched  on  the  hill  slopes  and  just  below  the  lat- 
ter, the  river,  in  one  of  its  characteristic  curves,  turns  north- 
ward again  past  Isles-les-Villenoy,  where  the  railroad  to 
Paris  crosses  it  on  a  long  bridge.  The  great  spur  of  the  Brie 
Hills  that  cuts  off  the  Marne  Valley  from  that  of  the  Grand 

292 


lie- de-France  293 


Morin  ends  abruptly  above  Conde-Ste.-Libiaire,  leaving 
extended  before  it  a  valley  encircled  by  the  Marne  in  a  bend 
almost  as  far-flung  as  the  one  between  St.  Jean-les-Deux- 
Jumeaux  and  Trilport. 

It  was  to  an  old  farmhouse  which  she  remodeled  to  suit 
her  own  tastes,  standing  exactly  on  the  summit  of  this  spur 
of  the  Brie  Hills,  that  Mrs.  Mildred  Aldrich,  the  American 
writer,  came  in  the  spring  of  1914,  "to  seek,"  as  she  said, 
"a  quiet  refuge  and  settle  myself  into  it,  to  turn  my  face 
peacefully  to  the  exit,  feeling  that  the  end  is  the  most  interest- 
ing event  ahead  of  me  —  the  one  truly  interesting  experience 
left  to  me  in  this  incarnation."  And  then,  as  if  specially  to 
prove  to  her  the  whimsical  temperament  of  Fate  and  the  folly 
of  predicting,  in  any  situation,  that  the  "  interesting  experi- 
ences" of  life  are  over,  there  came  and  spread  itself  on  the 
vast  stage  beneath  her  very  door,  the  first  battle  of  the  Marne, 
which  she,  from  her  viewpoint  of  it,  so  graphically  and  mov- 
ingly described  in  her  little  book,  A  Hilltop  on  the  Marne. 
French  and  British,  even  German,  soldiers  —  for  she  was  in 
the  very  No  Man's  Land  of  the  fray  —  came  and  went  about 
her  house,  and  with  her  glasses  she  followed  the  smoke 
clouds  and  the  flashes  of  the  guns  which  gave  evidence  of  the 
fierce  fighting  on  the  plateau  north  of  Meaux.  We  will  quote 
nothing  of  Mrs.  Aldrich's  fascinating  story  of  those  nerve- 
straining  days  of  battle,  but  her  description  of  the  lovely 
scene  extending  on  every  side  from  her  hilltop  at  the  time  of 
her  first  arrival  there,  is  too  graphic  and  too  pertinent  to  our 
journey  down  the  Marne  to  be  omitted.  Under  date  of  June 
3,  1914,  Mrs.  Aldrich  wrote,  in  a  letter  to  her  relatives  in 
America : 

I  am  sure  that  you  —  or  for  that  matter  any  other  American  — 
never  heard  of  Huiry.     Yet  it  is  a  little  hamlet  less  than  30  miles 


294         ^^^  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

from  Paris.  It  is  in  that  district  between  Paris  and  Meaux  little 
known  to  the  ordinary  traveler.  It  only  consists  of  less  than  a 
dozen  rude  farmhouses,  less  than  five  miles,  as  a  bird  flies,  from 
Meaux,  which,  with  a  fair  cathedral,  and  a  beautiful  chestnut- 
shaded  promenade  on  the  banks  of  the  Marne,  spanned  just  there 
by  lines  of  old  mills  whose  water-wheels  churn  the  river  into  foam- 
ing eddies,  has  never  been  popular  with  excursionists.  There  are 
people  who  go  there  to  see  where  Bossuet  wrote  his  funeral  ora- 
tions, in  a  little  summer-house  standing  among  pines  and  cedars  on 
the  wall  of  the  garden  of  the  Archbishop's  palace,  now,  since  the 
"  separation,"  the  property  of  the  State,  and  soon  to  be  a  town 
museum.  It  is  not  a  very  attractive  town.  It  has  not  even  an  out- 
of-doors   restaurant  to  tempt  the  passing  automobilist. 

My  house  was,  when  I  leased  it,  little  more  than  a  peasant's 
hut.  It  is  considerably  over  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  old,  with 
stables  and  outbuildings  attached  whimsically,  and  boasts  six  gables. 
Is  it  not  a  pity,  for  early  association's  sake,  that  it  has  not  one 
more?    .... 

But  much  as  I  like  all  this,  it  was  not  this  that  attracted  me  here. 
That  was  the  situation.  The  house  stands  in  a  small  garden,  sep- 
arated from  the  road  by  an  old  gnarled  hedge  of  hazel.  It  is 
almost  on  the  crest  of  the  hill  on  the  south  bank  of  the  Marne  — 
the  hill  that  is  the  water-shed  between  the  Marne  and  the  Grand 
Morin.  Just  here  the  Marne  makes  a  wonderful  loop,  and  is  only 
fifteen  minutes'  walk  away  from  my  gate,  down  the  hill  to  the  north. 

From  the  lawn,  on  the  north  side  of  the  house,  I  command  a 
panorama  which  I  have  rarely  seen  equaled.  To  me  it  is  more  beau- 
tiful than  that  we  have  so  often  looked  at  together  from  the  terrace 
at  Saint-Germain.  In  the  west  the  new  part  of  Esbly  climbs  the 
hill,  and  from  there  to  a  hill  at  the  northeast  I  have  a  wide  view 
of  the  valley  of  the  Marne,  backed  by  a  low  line  of  hills  which  is 
the  water-shed  between  the  Marne  and  the  Aisne.  Low  down  in 
the  valley,  at  the  northwest,  lies  Ile-de-Villenoy,  like  a  toy  town, 
where  the  big  bridge  spans  the  Marne  to  carry  the  railroad  into 
Meaux.  On  the  horizon  line  to  the  west  the  tall  chimneys  of  Claye 
send  lines  of  smoke  into  the  air.  In  the  foreground  to  the  north, 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  are  the  roofs  of  two  little  hamlets  —  Jon- 
cheroy  and  Voisins — and  beyond  them  the  trees  that  border  the  canal. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  Marne  the  undulating  hill,  with  its  wide 
stretch  of  fields,  is  dotted  with  little  villages  that  peep  out  of  the 
trees  or  are  silhouetted  against  the  sky-line  —  Vignely,  Trilbardou, 


Ile-de-France  295 


Penchard,  Monthyon,  Neufmontier,  Chauconin,  and  in  the  fore- 
ground to  the  north,  in  the  valley,  just  halfway  between  me  and 
Meaux,  lies  Mareuil-on-the-Marne,  with  its  red  roofs,  gray  walls, 
and  church  spire.  With  a  glass  I  can  find  where  Chambry  and 
Barcy  are,  on  the  slope  behind  Meaux,  even  if  the  trees  conceal 
them. 

But  these  are  all  little  villages  of  which  you  may  never  have 
heard.  No  guidebook  celebrates  them.  No  railroad  approaches 
them.  On  clear  days  I  can  see  the  square  tower  of  the  cathedral 
at  Meaux,  and  I  have  only  to  walk  a  short  distance  on  the  route 
nationale  —  which  runs  from  Paris,  across  the  top  of  my  hill  a  lit- 
tle to  the  east,  and  thence  to  Meaux,  and  on  to  the  frontier  —  to 
get  a  profile  view  of  it  standing  up  above  the  town,  quite  detached, 
from  foundation  to  clock-tower. 

This  is  a  rolling  country  of  grain  fields,  orchards,  masses  of 
black-currant  bushes,  vegetable  plots  —  it  is  a  great  sugar-beet  coun- 
try—  and  asparagus  beds;  for  the  Department  of  the  Seine-et- 
Marne  is  one  of  the  most  productive  in  France ;  and  every  inch 
under  cultivation.  It  is  what  the  French  call  un  paysage  riant,  and 
I  assure  you,  it  does  more  than  smile  these  lovely  June  mornings. 
I  am  up  every  morning  almost  as  soon  as  the  sun,  and  I  slip  my 
feet  into  sabots,  wrap  myself  in  a  big  cloak  and  run  right  on  to  the 
lawn  to  make  sure  that  the  panorama  has  not  disappeared  in  the 
night.  There  always  lie  —  too  good  almost  to  be  true  —  miles  and 
miles  of  laughing  country,  little  white  towns  just  smiling  in  the 
early  light,  a  thin  strip  of  river  here  and  there,  dimpling  and  danc- 
ing, stretches  of  fields  of  all  colors  —  all  so  peaceful  and  so  gay, 
and  so  "  chummy "  that  it  gladdens  the  opening  day,  and  makes 
me  rejoice  to  have  lived  to  see  it.  I  never  weary  of  it.  It  changes 
every  hour  and  I  never  can  decide  at  which  hour  it  is  the  loveliest. 
After  all,  it  is  a  rather  nice  world. 

Now  get  out  your  map  and  locate  me.  You  will  not  find  Huiry. 
But  you  can  find  Esbly,  my  nearest  station  on  the  main  line  of  the 
Eastern  Railroad.  Then  you  will  find  a  little  narrow-gauge  road 
running  from  there  to  Crecy-la-Chapelle.  Halfway  between  you 
will  find  Couilly-Saint-Germain.  Well,  I  am  right  up  the  hill  about 
a  third  of  the  way  between  Couilly  and  Meaux. 

It  is  a  nice  historic  country.  But  for  that  matter  so  is  all 
France.  I  am  only  fifteen  miles  northeast  of  Bondy,  in  whose  forest 
the  naughty  Queen  Fredegonde,  beside  whose  tomb,  in  Saint-Denis, 
we  have  often  stood  together,  had  her  husband  killed,  and  nearer 

20 


296         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

still  to  Chelles,  where  the  Merovingian  kings  once  had  a  palace 
stained  with  the  blood  of  many  crimes,  about  which  you  read,  in 
many  awful  details,  in  Maurice  Strauss's  Tragique  Histoire  des 
Reines  Brunhaut  et  Fredegonde,  which  I  remember  to  have  sent 
you  when  it  first  came  out.  Of  course  no  trace  of  those  days  of 
the  Merovingian  dynasty  remains  here  or  anywhere  else.  Chelles 
is  now  one  of  the  fortified  places  in  the  outer  belt  of  forts  surround- 
ing Paris. 

In  her  gracious  description,  Mrs.  Aldrich  has  told  so 
much  of  the  paysage  riant  lying  between  Meaux  and  Lagny 
that  not  a  great  deal  remains  to  be  added  to  it;  nothing,  cer- 
tainly, to  add  to  the  sense  of  its  charms.  The  villages,  whose 
musical  names  sing  like  strains  from  some  ballade  of  the 
troubadours  —  Vignely  and  Trilbardou,  Charmentray  and 
Precy  and  Annet-sur-Marne  —  dreaming  along  the  shores  of 
the  slumberous  river,  have  really  few  distinguishing  features 
beyond  the  winsome  charm  which  clings  like  a  perfume,  to 
every  Marne  village.  Though  almost  within  sound  of  the 
whistles  of  Paris,  not  yet  is  the  sweet  rusticity  of  the  river's 
wanderings  spoiled  in  the  smallest  degree  by  proximity  to  one 
of  the  world's  greatest  capitals. 

At  Esbly,  where  the  canal  crosses  the  peninsula  of  the 
Marne  and  where  the  railroad  from  Crecy,  coming  down  the 
Grand  Morin,  joins  the  Paris-Metz  line,  there  is  growing  up, 
it  is  true,  beside  the  gray  and  still  sequestered  old  village,  a 
new  town  of  villas  and  suburban  cottages  where,  in  charming 
rural  surroundings,  dwell  city  folk  attracted  thither  by  the 
frequent  train  service  which  enables  them  to  go  daily  to  their 
work  in  Paris.  Old  Esbly  boasts  a  monument  to  the  memory 
of  one  of  her  sons  of  whom  she  is  justly  proud.  Major  Ber- 
thout,  an  army  ofificer  of  high  intellectual  attainments  who 
lost  his  life  in  the  colony  of  Tonkin  while  engaged  in  the  task 
of  mapping  that  country. 


Ile-de-France  297 


A  canal,  starting  at  Meaux  and  designed  to  shorten  by  16 
kilometers  the  journey  of  barges,  by  cutting  off  the  meander 
north  of  Esbly,  makes  a  termination  in  the  Marne  at  the  west 
side  of  this  bend,  between  the  hamlets  of  Lesches  and  Chali- 
fert.  Its  final  course  over  the  neck  of  the  peninsula  is  fav- 
ored by  a  peculiar  configuration  of  the  ground.  Owing  to 
the  fact  that  the  Grand  Morin  comes  down  past  Esbly  and, 
amid  groves  of  poplars,  enters  the  Marne  hard  by  it,  there 
is  across  the  neck  of  this  peninsula,  instead  of  the  tongue  of 
high  land  usually  occupying  such  a  point,  a  valley  so  much 
lower  than  the  adjacent  surface  that  it  is  almost  a  marsh.  On 
either  side  of  the  canal  the  low,  damp  soil  is  planted  to  a 
luxuriant  forest  of  poplars  belonging  to  the  commune  of  Les- 
ches, the  village  whose  cottages  stand  at  the  head  of  the  small 
valley  under  a  wooded  crest  robed  with  vines.  This  crest, 
sloping  easily  to  the  borders  of  the  Marne,  is  crowned  by 
the  Chateau  of  Montigny. 

Of  all  the  places  near  the  mouth  of  the  Grand  Morin, 
Conde-Ste.  Libiaire  alone  preserves,  in  its  name,  the  recog- 
nition of  the  ancients  of  this  meeting  place  of  waters,  Conde 
being  a  corruption  of  the  Gallic  word  condate,  meaning,  con- 
fluence. North  of  Esbly,  hiding  its  wanderings,  if  possible, 
even  more  shyly  than  it  does  in  more  remote  regions,  the 
Marne  reflects  the  rural  center  of  Charmentray,  and  Precy, 
where  basket-work  flourishes,  and  then  stretches  protecting 
arms  about  the  sandy  vale  of  Jablines,  dotted  with  grain 
shocks  and  stacks  of  golden  straw.  Coupvray,  between 
Esbly  and  Chalifert,  looks  down  upon  rich  soil  once  belong- 
ing to  the  ducal  family  of  Trevise,  whose  ancestral  chateau 
still  dominates  them  from  the  summit  of  the  near-by  hills. 
Chicory,  much  used  in  the  north  of  France,  and  endive,  lux- 


298         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

uriate  on  these  grounds,  whose  farms  are  well  cultivated  and 
good  to  look  upon. 

In  the  square  of  Coupvray  stands  a  bust  upon  a  modest 
pedestal  which  commemorates  the  features  of  a  man,  native 
to  the  village,  whom  thousands  of  unfortunates  all  over  the 
world  have  blessed  and  still  bless  with  the  fervent  gratitude 
which  they  might  bestow  upon  a  saint.  The  bust  was  erected 
by  the  students,  whom  he  had  trained,  to  Louis  Braille,  born 
in  Coupvray  in  1809;  the  genius  who,  blinded  himself  at  the 
age  of  three  years,  invented  the  Braille  system  of  printing 
for  the  blind  by  means  of  raised  letters,  thus  lighting  the 
lamp  of  knowledge  in  the  brain  for  those  for  whom  the  lamp 
of  the  sun  has  been  forever  extinguished. 

Across  the  deep-embowered  valley  of  the  Grand  Morin, 
Mrs.  Aldrich's  "hilltop  on  the  Marne"  looks  to  another  hill- 
top swelling  above  Montry  and  Coupvray.  This  gentle  emi- 
nence bears  up  the  Chateau  of  Haute-Maison,  *'  with  its  man- 
sard and  Louis  xvi  pavilion;"  the  building  in  which  Jules 
Favre  held  his  first  conference  with  Prince  Bismarck  on  Sep- 
tember 18,  1870,  while  the  German  armies  were  encircling 
Paris,  and  France  was  in  chaos.  To  the  chateau,  which 
belonged  in  1591  to  the  noble  family  of  Reilhac,  Bismarck 
was  conducted  by  an  old  French  soldier  named  Hoppert, 
after  having  declined  to  meet  Favre  in  the  humble  cottage  of 
the  veteran.  The  latter,  distrustful  of  the  Germans,  would 
not  leave  his  home  with  Bismarck  until  the  latter  had  placed 
a  guard  over  it. 

In  his  discussion  with  the  Iron  Chancellor  at  the  chateau, 
Favre  stood  out  bravely  against  the  inflexible  German,  who, 
expressing  his  eager  covetousness  in  rude  words  and  harsh 
voice,  demanded  booty  and  ransom  so  huge  that  the  French 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  indignantly  refused  to  consider 


Ile-de-France  299 


such  terms.  But  a  few  months  later,  alas!  Paris  taken,  and 
France  brought  to  her  knees,  the  new  republic  was  obliged 
to  accede  to  conditions  even  more  humiliating.  It  is  consol- 
ing to  reflect  that  forty-four  years  later  in  this  same  valley 
and  again  in  September,  a  German  officer  was  obliged  to 
write  in  his  diary  of  a  superior  who  had  aspired  to  emulate 
Bismarck ;  "  Caught  sight  of  von  Kliick.  His  eyes,  usually 
so  bright,  were  dull.  He,  who  was  wont  to  be  so  alert,  spoke 
in  dejected  tones.     He  was  absolutely  depressed." 

Like  a  child,  weary  of  its  long  play  at  hide-and-seek 
among  the  laughing  hills  of  Orxois  and  Brie,  at  Chalifert  the 
gentle  Marne  turns  westward  as  if  treading  the  path  toward 
home  and,  with  scarcely  another  turn,  rolls  on  into  the  very 
eastern  suburbs  of  Paris.  At  Lagny  it  is  that  one  first  senses 
the  nearness  of  the  great  city.  The  river  valley  above  it, 
framed  between  the  orchards  and  vines  of  the  hillsides,  encom- 
passes Chessy  and  Montevrain  on  the  south  shore  and  Damp- 
mart  on  the  north;  smiling  suburban  places  whose  villas,  set 
in  ample  lawns,  the  homes  of  country-loving  Parisians,  form 
a  pleasant  avenue  leading  above  the  river  to  Lagny.  Even 
the  railroad  bridges  and  the  medievally  massive  Aqueduct  of 
the  Dhuis,  which,  after  its  long  journey  beside  the  Marne, 
crosses  it  above  Dampmart  to  find  a  more  northerly  route 
into  Paris,  add  to  the  beauty  of  the  landscape  by  their  fairly 
proportioned  arches  of  chiseled  stone. 

The  river  front  of  Lagny,  always  peopled  by  canal  boats 
sparred  out  from  the  shore  and  connected  with  it  only  by 
long,  narrow  landing  planks,  looks  upon  the  little  capital  of 
this  part  of  the  valley  between  arching  trees  and  past  river- 
side residences  which  are  often  elegant  and  always  comfort- 
able. The  town,  of  a  population  of  7,000  people,  counting 
those  in  Thorigny  and  Pomponne,  directly  across  the  river. 


300         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

was  the  Latiniacum  of  the  Romans  and  it  has  had  a  check- 
ered history.  It  was  burnt  by  the  English  in  1358,  pillaged 
by  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  in  1544,  and  captured  in  1591  by 
King  Henry  iv  from  the  Duke  of  Parma.  At  its  very  center, 
Lagny  exhales  a  perfume  of  antiquity,  a  curious  fountain  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  bearing  a  Latin  inscription  and  called  the 
Naiad's  Fountain,  playing  its  jet  of  water  in  the  midst  of  the 
market  place,  itself  the  old  "  Place  du  Marche  aux  Bles," 
appropriate  to  a  town  of  the  grain  country.  Near  by  is  the 
quaint  old  Church  of  St.  Furcy,  long  since  given  to  secular 
uses,  with  curtains  fluttering  in  the  latticed  windows  beneath 
the  beautifully  carved  ogival  fagade,  which,  set  between  two 
pinnacled  turrets  and  heavy  buttresses,  rises  high  above  the 
doorway  wherein  stand  the  tables  of  a  modest  cafe.  St. 
Furcy's  is  the  last  relic  of  a  famous  abbey  founded  by  the 
Irish  monk  of  that  name  at  Lagny  in  the  seventh  century. 

A  more  imposing  ecclesiastical  structure  is  the  early 
Gothic  Church  of  St.  Pierre,  near  the  market  place.  It  is 
really  the  choir  only  of  an  abbey  church  designed  in  the  thir- 
teenth century  to  be  one  of  the  most  vast  in  France,  but  never 
completed.  With  its  handsome  radiating  chapels,  however, 
the  noble  fragment  is  alone  large  enough  to  accommodate  all 
the  worshipers  who  ever  assemble  there. 

On  the  Pomponne  side  of  the  river,  along  the  hill  slope 
which  is  topped  by  the  delightful  park  and  Bois  de  Pomponne, 
much  fine  fruit  is  produced  for  the  Paris  markets,  the  garden 
of  one  M.  Mottheau,  in  particular,  having  acquired  a  high  rep- 
utation for  the  magnificent  pears  and  apples  which  are  raised 
there  by  the  methods  of  arboriculture  practiced  in  the  Gar- 
dens of  the  Luxembourg.  Situated  upon  the  sunny  slope 
above  the  railway  station,  with  Lagny  outspread  across  the 
river,  the  orchards  of  M.  Mottheau  are  enclosed  in  walls  and 


Ile-de-France  301 


cross-walls  which  are  equipped  to  hold  straw  mats  and  slid- 
ing roofs  of  tiles  for  the  protection  of  blossoms  and  young 
fruit  in  the  time  of  late  spring  frosts  or  other  inclement 
weather.  The  pear  trees  are  trained  against  the  walls  in 
many  symmetrical  designs  such  as  lozenges,  candelabra,  palm 
leaves,  urns,  etc.,  and  the  production  of  each  tree,  apple  as 
well  as  pear,  is  confined  to  a  very  few  carefully  nurtured  speci- 
mens of  fruit.  Naturally,  fruit  produced  by  such  painstaking 
and  costly  methods  finds  its  way  only  to  the  tables  of  the 
best  hotels  and  the  homes  of  wealthy  families. 

Dimpling  again  for  a  space  through  a  bit  of  valley  remote 
from  the  traffic  of  highway  or  railroad,  and  smiling  back  at 
St.  Thibault-des-Vignes,  Vaires,  and  Torcy,  the  river 
approaches  Noisiel  but  before  reaching  there  is  broken  into 
two  channels  by  a  long,  narrow  island,  leafy  as  always,  the 
upper  end  of  which  is  graced  by  the  "  Mill  of  the  Isle,"  and 
the  lower  end  by  the  abandoned  "  Mill  of  the  Moat."  Ap- 
proached from  the  shore  by  a  mossy  stone  causeway,  the 
empty  wheel  chute  of  the  Mill  of  the  Moat  bestrides  an  arm 
of  placid  water  which  reflects  as  in  a  mirror  the  gray  stone 
piers,  framing  a  vista  of  woodland  greenery,  the  upper  stories 
of  plaster  and  decaying,  close-set  timbers,  and  the  branches 
of  the  forest  trees  that  hedge  it  in. 

Perhaps  the  Mill  of  the  Moat  and  the  Mill  of  the  Isle 
were  in  the  mind  of  the  eccentric,  nature-loving  poet,  Gerard 
de  Nerval  when  he  wrote, 

/  love  Chelles    and    her  water-cress  beds 
And  the  soft  tick-tack  of  the  mills, 

for   Chelles,   looking  down  over  long  cascades   of   treetops 

from  the  hills  north  of  Noisiel,  is  only  a  short  distance  away. 

At   Noisiel    we   are   again   in   a   modern   manufacturing 


302         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

town,  with  a  multitude  of  workmen's  cottages  ranged  along 
straight  streets,  much  as  in  an  American  town  of  similar 
character.  The  whole  life  of  the  place  revolves  about  the 
huge  chocolate  manufactory  of  Menier.  The  substantial  and 
well-arranged  buildings  of  this  company,  whose  signs  are 
familiar  sights  in  every  French  village  and  railway  station 
and  whose  product  was  eagerly  sought  by  millions  of  Allied 
soldiers  during  the  weary  days  of  the  war,  stretch  for  a  great 
distance  along  the  shore  of  the  Marne,  interspersed  with 
pretty  gravel  paths  and  flower  beds. 

Noisiel  is  modern  and  devoid  of  interesting  traditions  but 
it  is  far  different  with  Chelles,  lying  on  the  north  side  of 
the  river  beneath  the  grim  but  no  longer  formidable  walls  of 
Fort  de  Chelles,  first  unit  of  the  outlying  enceinte  of  defenses 
about  Paris  which  the  Marne  approaches  in  its  course.  As 
Mrs.  Aldrich  related  in  her  Hilltop  on  the  Marne,  Chelles  was 
the  seat  of  a  palace  of  the  Merovingian  kings,  and  the  Forest 
of  Bondy,  northwest  of  it,  is  the  place  where,  according  to 
legend.  Queen  Fredegonde  in  the  year  673  accomplished  the 
murder  of  her  husband,  Chilperic  i,  by  having  him  assassi- 
nated as  he  was  dismounting  from  his  horse  after  a  hunting 
excursion.  This  resourceful,  if  not  too  scrupulous,  lady,  who 
was  only  one  of  several  wives  of  Chilperic,  during  her  career 
of  crime  likewise  succeeded  in  compassing  the  death  of  all 
the  numerous  progeny  of  the  other  royal  consorts,  thus  leav- 
ing the  dynastic  coast  clear  for  her  own  children,  none  of 
whom,  however,  appear  to  have  been  worth  the  trouble  she 
had  taken  on  their  behalf. 

The  palace,  which  was  the  royal  residence  of  three  Mero- 
vingian kings  and  was  later  used  by  Robert  the  Pious,  second 
of  the  Capetians,  was  abandoned  under  the  latter  dynasty  and 
fell  into  a  decay  of  which  not  even  ruins  remain  today.   The 


nLJ'^.K 


!A^.'V 


Le  Moulin  de  Doubes,  Noisiel 


[Pcif/e  301] 


lie-de-France  303 


adjacent  abbey,  however,  a  great  religious  institution  founded 
by  Ste.  Clotilde,  wife  of  Clovis  the  Great,  endured  from  the 
sixth  century  until  the  eighteenth,  when  it,  together  with 
the  tombs  of  the  numerous  princesses  who  had  been  its 
abbesses,  was  utterly  destroyed  in  the  Revolution.  Some  reli- 
quaries, containing  bones  of  Ste.  Bertille  and  Ste.  Bathilde, 
of  whom  the  latter,  wife  of  Clovis  11,  had  had  the  place 
rebuilt  in  the  seventh  century,  and  some  wood  carvings  still 
to  be  seen  in  the  church  of  Chelles,  alone  survived  that  de- 
molition. 

Louis  XIV,  during  the  brief  period  in  which  he  was  infat- 
uated with,  the  lovely  and  unfortunate  Mile  de  Fontanges, 
conferred  the  almost  royal  dignity  of  Abbess  of  Chelles  upon 
her  sister,  and  it  was  in  this  retreat  that  Mile  de  Fontanges 
sought  a  refuge  after  she  had  become  distasteful  at  court. 
She  arrived,  so  wrote  Mme  de  Sevigne, 

.  .  .  .  with  four  coaches  of  six  horses  each,  her  own  with 
eight;  the  beneficiary  of  a  yearly  income  of  40,000  ecus  (about 
120,000  francs),  but,  wanting  the  heart  of  the  king,  which  she  had 
lost,  bloodless,  pale,  changed,  bowed  down  with  sadness.  I  do  not 
think  that  I  have  ever  seen  an  example  of  a  woman  at  once  so 
fortunate  and  so  unfortunate. 

The  present  town  of  Chelles,  especially  along  the  main 
thoroughfare  of  the  Boulevard  de  la  Gare,  with  its  shade 
trees  trimmed  square  like  boxes  set  on  posts,  is  virtually  Paris 
in  appearance  as  truly  as  the  Marne  in  front  of  it,  winding 
between  little  islands  and  past  the  Moulin  Baviere,  is  still 
the  placid,  sylvan,  heaven-reflecting  Marne  of  Bassigny  and 
Champagne  and  the  Brie.  At  Gournay,  on  the  river  bank, 
which  has  a  railway  station  in  common  with  Chelles,  and  near 
which  the  Marne  leaves  the  Department  of  Seine-et-Marne 
and,  for  a  very  brief  span,  enters  that  of  Seine-et-Oise,  the 


304         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

views  up  and  down  stream  are  most  attractive.  Especially  is 
this  true  from  the  floor  of  the  highway  bridge,  beneath  which 
the  water  is  usually  enlivened  by  canal  boats  passing  with 
lumbering  deliberation,  while  the  sweep  of  the  bounding  hills, 
dotted  with  suburban  homes,  is  broken  into  vistas  by  the 
foliage  of  the  tree  clusters  on  the  low  lands. 

It  seems  a  pity  that  a  place  so  storied  and  so  attractive 
as  Chelles  should  have  to  be  connected  in  American  minds 
with  Prison  Farm  2,  an  institution  which  has  left  probably 
the  most  sinister  memory  of  any  connected  with  the  Ameri- 
can Expeditionary  Forces,  unless  a  possible  exception  be- 
made  of  "The  Bastille,"  at  10  Rue  Ste.  Anne,  in  Paris.  The 
two  places  were,  in  fact,  closely  connected  in  operation.  The 
American  soldier  offenders,  most  of  them  "A.W.O.L.'s"  in 
Paris,  were  first  gathered  in  at  "  The  Bastille  "  and  later 
put  in  confinement  at  Prison  Farm  2,  where  they  were  sub- 
jected to  the  outrageous  brutalities  of  the  commanding  offi- 
cer, First  Lieutenant  Frank  H  ("  Hardboiled ")  Smith, 
and  his  subordinates.  Second  Lieutenants  Charles  Mason  and 
Warren  Helphenstein,  and  Sergeant  Clarence  E.  Ball.  Some 
comfort,  however,  is  to  be  derived  from  the  thought  that, 
having  been  proved  guilty  of  practicing  upon  prisoners  under 
their  charge,  cruelties  utterly  unwarranted  by  military  law, 
these  men  all  eventually  received  punishment  in  the  United 
States. 

On  the  high  hills  west  of  Gournay,  Noisy-le-Grand  holds 
a  lofty  seat  far  above  valley-built  Neuilly  and  just  beyond 
the  latter  town,  in  a  deep  southward  bend,  the  Marne  begins 
its  last  series  of  meanders  and,  at  the  same  time,  leaves  the 
Department  of  Seine-et-Oise  and  enters  that  of  the  Seine. 
The  latter,  which  is  virtually  the  metropolitan  district  of 
Paris,  embracing  nothing  save  the  city  and  its  immediate 


Ile-de-France  305 


suburbs,  is  at  once  the  smallest  department  of  France  in  area, 
185  square  miles,  and  much  the  greatest  in  population,  having 
nearly  4,000,000  inhabitants. 

Henceforth  the  Marne,  shy  recluse  of  arboreous  valleys 
and  bosky  meadows,  is  a  city  dweller  —  but  a  dweller  in  what 
a  city!  Paris  has  expended  upon  her  boulevards,  parks,  and 
suburban  recreation  places  more  intelligence  and  art  and  per- 
haps more  superficial  space,  than  any  other  city  in  the  world. 
So  seductive  has  she  made  the  pathway  for  her  lovely  rustic 
guest,  the  Marne,  that  the  river,  seemingly  covered  with  dis- 
may as  she  approaches  the  city  and  bent  upon  plunging 
straight  into  the  Seine,  quickly  overcomes  her  bashfulness 
and  lingers,  instead,  in  many  loitering  curves,  as  if  to  enjoy 
as  long  as  possible  the  pleasant  playgrounds  wherein,  beloved 
and  caressed  by  the  nature-loving  Parisians,  young  and  old, 
she  surrenders  wholly  to  their  pleasure  the  charms  which 
have  adorned  her  since  far-off  Langres  and  Chaumont  and 
St.  Dizier. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  PLAYMATE  OF  PARIS 

ALREADY  the  double-decked  tramcars  from  the  Porte 
de  Vincennes  are  at  the  river  shore  in  widespread, 
hilly,  and  very  modern  Perreux  and  they  go  roaring  across 
the  bridge  into  the  little  square  of  more  venerable  and  sedate 
Bry-sur-Marne,  a  place  at  the  very  gates  of  Paris  which 
preserves  in  its  name  a  trace  of  that  rich  and  storied  Brie 
region  which  we  for  so  long  have  traversed. 

An  old  Mairie,  a  square-towered  church,  an  esplanade  of 
densely  foliaged  trees  leading  of¥  up  a  slope,  and  a  rambling 
hotel  with  an  open-air  cafe  where  tables  stand  beneath  trees 
and  arbors  of  grapevines;  these  things  look  from  the  square 
of  Bry  upon  the  bridge  and  the  surface  of  the  river,  where, 
on  holidays,  canoes  and  rowboats  dart  hither  and  thither 
over  the  trembling  water.  And  out  in  the  sunny  open  before 
the  Mairie  a  bronze  bust  is  borne  up  on  a  modest  pedestal 
whose  legend  tells  that  it  was  erected  to  the  memory  of  Louis 
Jacques  Daguerre,  the  inventor  of  the  daguerreotype,  who 
lived  in  Bry  and  died  there  in  1851. 

The  town  is,  in  fact,  almost  as  well  supplied  with  remind- 
ers of  the  father  of  the  modern  art  of  photography  as  is 
Meaux  with  those  of  Bossuet.  Daguerre  was  almost  as  great 
an  artist  as  he  was  an  inventor,  being  particularly  gifted  in 
the  portrayal  of  light  and  shade  and  it  was  as  an  artist  that 
he  developed  the  diorama,  whose  realistic  effects  are  obtained 
by  the  manipulation  of  lights  and  shadows  thrown  upon  the 
canvas.  Indeed,  for  a  long  time  Daguerre  was  more  cele- 
brated as  the  inventor  of  the  diorama  than  of  the  daguerreo- 
type until  the  development  of  photography  showed  what  a 

306 


The  Playmate  of  Paris  307 

boundless  field  of  possibilities  he  had  opened  with  the  latter 
invention.  The  small  parish  church  of  Bry  contains  a  remark- 
able example  of  Daguerre's  peculiar  art.  Filling  the  entire 
vault  behind  the  altar  is  a  painting,  lighted  from  above,  of  a 
vast  Gothic  cathedral  choir,  so  skillfully  executed  that  the  ob- 
server experiences  the  sensation  of  actually  looking  into  that 
spacious  interior,  to  which  the  actual  church  seems  but  an 
antechamber. 

A  short,  winding  street  extends  from  the  church  past  the 
Bellan  Orphan  Asylum  and  up  the  abrupt  hill,  beyond  whose 
crest  lies  Villiers-sur-Marne.  On  the  wall  of  a  plain  stone 
building  just  at  the  base  of  the  hill  are  fixed  two  tablets,  so 
high  above  the  pavement  that  they  might  easily  be  passed 
unnoticed.  The  upper  one  states  that  this  property  was  owned 
by  Louis  Daguerre  and  that  he  died  in  this  house,  July  10, 
1 85 1.  The  lower  tablet  is  larger  and  its  inscription,  in  this 
quiet  street,  with  the  sunlight  filtering  through  the  branches 
bending  over  the  wall  across  the  way,  and  the  sparrows  twit- 
tering in  the  dusty  road,  brings  to  the  reader,  with  the  shock 
almost  of  a  sudden  bugle  blast,  a  realization  of  what  trans- 
pired here,  what  was  transpiring  all  around  Paris,  in  the  ter- 
rible battle  autumn  of  1870.    The  legend,  in  French,  reads: 

By  this  road,  on  the  thirtieth  of  November,  1870,  bravely 
ascended  the  soldiers  of  the  Fourth  Regiment  of  Zouaves,  under 
the  bullets  and  the  shells  of  the  Germans.  They  gained  the  top, 
driving  back  the  enemy  until  they  reached  the  moat  of  the  Park 
of  Villiers,  filled  with  water,  where  they  were  brought  to  a  halt 
in  a  bloody  combat.  Here  6  officers  and  170  enlisted  men  were 
killed  and  380  severely  wounded.  Colonel  Fournes,  who  led  them, 
had  two  horses  shot  under  him.  —  To  their  memories! 

It  is  an  echo  of  the  first  great  sortie  of  the  French  armies 
defending  Paris  against  the  besiegers,  on  November  30, 1870. 
Extending  along  the  entire  southeastern  side  of  the  city,  the 


3o8         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

attack,  driven  home  by  no  less  than  100,000  troops,  at  first 
gave  fair  promise  of  success,  but  it  was  finally  repulsed  and 
the  besieging  lines  of  the  Germans  were  drawn  about  Paris 
more  closely  than  ever. 

As  one  ascends  the  narrow  street  and,  coming  out  on 
the  upland,  walks  by  winding  paths  northward  between  the 
tiny  plots  of  truck  gardeners,  it  is  difficult  to  realize  that  such 
scenes  have  ever  been  enacted  in  this  quiet  land.  Here,  by 
the  path,  a  double  row  of  grapevines  on  a  bit  of  slope,  faces 
the  sunny  south;  there,  a  square  of  cabbages  or  potatoes  or 
some  carefully  trellised  peas  occupy  a  patch  of  level  ground, 
around  which  the  red  clover  blossoms  and  soft  grass  over- 
bend  the  field  path.  Yonder  is  a  little  orchard,  crimson  apples 
bending  the  branches  low,  and  between  them,  toward  even- 
ing, one  looks  down  long  slopes  of  billowing  treetops  to  the 
blue  mist  rising  from  the  bosom  of  the  Marne  and  the  white 
homes  of  Neuilly  glimmering  duskily  beyond.  It  is  peace, 
not  war,  that  the  whole  land  radiates;  peace  that  the  Marne, 
for  all  its  martial  traditions,  loves  and  clings  to  and  lives  for, 
here  near  its  ending  under  the  walls  of  Paris,  as  well  as  yonder 
in  the  bosky  dell  below  the  Cave  of  Sabinus. 

Nor  is  there,  of  a  long  summer  evening,  any  more  cozy 
place  for  dinner  among  the  dozens  of  cafes  that  border  the 
Marne  from  Gournay  to  Charenton,  than  beneath  the  arbors 
and  spreading  trees  of  the  hotel-restaurant  at  the  end  of  the 
Bry  bridge.  Here  the  soft  air  drifts  in  from  the  breast  of 
the  river,  cool  after  the  heat  of  the  day,  and  the  indistinct 
sounds  of  passing  water  craft  mingle  with  the  low  voices  of 
those  who  dine  at  adjacent  tables  and  sometimes  with  the 
strains  of  the  small  orchestra  somewhere  back  on  a  balcony.  A 
few  hundred  yards  upstream  is  a  passerelle  across  the  river, 
from  which,  on  moonlit  nights,  the  home  lights  on  the  hills 


The  Playmate  of  Paris  309 

and  those  of  the  barges  resting  quietly  at  their  moorings 
under  the  land,  cast  long,  wavering  reflections  in  the  water 
until  the  thin  mist,  suffused  by  them,  seems,  all  dreamlike,  to 
blend  earth  with  the  starry  vault  above.  Ah,  Bry-sur-Marne, 
with  the  dusk  falling  and  the  quiet  sights  and  sounds  of  even- 
ing breathed  upon  by  the  soft  airs  of  romance,  how  quietly, 
how  drowsily  it  lies  by  the  waters,  as  if  harking  for  the  ves- 
per chimes  from  the  unseen  belfries  of  Paris,  a  child  of  coun- 
try lanes  stolen  in  to  peer  wonderingly  at  the  hives  of  men! 

The  dew  has  gathered  in  the  flowers 
Like   tears  from   some   unconscious  deep. 
The  swallows  whirl  around  the  towers. 
The  light  runs  out  beyond  the  long  cloud  bars. 
And  leaves  the  single  stars; 

'  Tis  time  for  sleep,  sleep,  sleep, 
'  Tis  time  for  sleep. 

Around  the  turning  of  the  river  below  Bry  is  another 
spot,  dreamlike,  also,  and  still  lovely,  but  deriving  its  subtle 
charm  from  the  perfume  of  olden  days.  It  is  the  Ile-de- 
Beaute,  still  softly  verdant  and  vibrant  with  bird  songs  as  in 
the  far-off  days  when  Agnes  Sorel,  "the  lady  of  beauty," 
dwelt  there  in  the  chateau  built  for  her  by  King  Charles  vii. 
It  stood,  so  tradition  avers,  in  the  midst  of  a  park  where 
swans,  deer,  peacocks,  and  other  birds  and  animals  roved  at 
will  over  the  lawns  and  among  the  little  lakes,  the  fountains 
and  the  vines  and  woodlands  beloved  of  the  gentle  and  patri- 
otic lady  whose  noble  character  was  undefiled  by  a  mode  of 
life  which  the  thought  of  her  day  scarcely  frowned  upon. 
Here  she  lived  and  wrought  many  deeds  for  the  good  of 
France  which  furthered  the  work  begun  earlier  in  the  reign 
of  Charles  by  his  devoted  maiden  champion,  Jeanne  d'Arc. 

Nogent,  high  on  the  hills  and  backed  by  another  fort,  is 


3IO         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 


just  beyond  the  He  de  Beaute  and  between  the  two  passes 
that  high  viaduct  of  the  Chemin  de  Fer  de  I'Est,  coming 
down  from  the  busy  railroad  yards  of  Noisy-le-Sec  and  pro- 
ceeding toward  Troyes  and  Chaumont  and  Belfort,  from 
which  many  an  American  doughboy,  looking  downward  out 
of  the  open  door  of  a  40  Homines,  8  Chevaux,  caught  his 
first  glimpse  of  the  Marne  as  he  was  trundled  slowly  east- 
ward from  Le  Havre  or  Brest  to  one  of  the  training  areas. 
Nogent,  with  its  numerous  country  houses  climbing  up  the 
parklike  hillsides  toward  the  Bois  de  Vincennes,  overlooks 
other  islands  in  the  river;  I'lle-Fanac,  I'lle-Loupe,  and  the 
long,  parked  island  of  Polangis,  haunted  by  canoeists,  while 
its  view  stretches  onward  across  the  vale  of  Joinville-le-Pont, 
encompassed  by  a  U-shaped  bend,  and  up  to  the  hill  crest 
beyond,  crowned  by  the  clustered  dwellings  of  Champigny. 

Antoine  Watteau,  sickly,  nervous,  but  palpitating  with 
energy  and  the  fire  of  genius,  gave  to  Nogent  a  name  in  art. 
There  he  did  some  of  his  best  work  and  enjoyed  the  com- 
radeship of  his  charming  friend,  Mme  de  Julienne,  the 
inspirer,  it  is  said,  of  his  most  celebrated  painting,  "  The 
Embarkation  for  the  Isle  of  Venus."  Here,  also,  in  the 
house  of  M.  Lefebvre,  the  gentle  artist  passed  away  on  July 
18,  1 72 1,  making,  the  story  goes,  a  tribute  to  his  beloved  art 
in  his  very  last  words,  when  he  exclaimed  to  the  priest  who 
held  a  common  crucifix  before  his  eyes.  "  Take  away  that 
image!  How  was  any  artist  able  to  conceive  so  badly  the 
features  of  the  Saviour?" 

It  seems  a  singularly  happy  coincidence  that,  as  at  Chau- 
mont and  Langres,  both  close  to  the  source  of  the  Marne, 
were  established  two  of  the  first  and  most  vital  centers  of 
American  activity  in  France  —  General  Headquarters  and  the 
Army    Schools  —  so    there    should    have    been    enacted    at 


'^  ^^ 


»*««^^^_^ 


~i*L' 


'fc^^ 


:-  r^ 


'r.-^r-'t?^-' 


The  Marne,  deeply  green,  near  Nogent 


[Page  259] 


The  river  road — Nogent 


[Page  310] 


The  Playmate  of  Paris  31 1 

Joinville-le-Pont,  almost  at  the  end  of  the  river,  the  last  impor- 
tant act  of  the  United  States  in  the  drama  of  the  World  War. 
In  that  act  America,  about  to  withdraw  her  armed  hosts 
entirely  from  Europe,  gracefully  took  the  part  of  host  to  her 
Allies  in  the  great  military  Olympic,  as  large  and  almost  as 
representative  as  the  Olympic  Games  themselves,  which, 
under  the  name  of  the  Inter- Allied  Games,  celebrated  the 
common  victory  by  a  series  of  friendly  athletic  contests. 

The  games  were  held  from  June  22  to  July  6,  19 19,  in 
Pershing  Stadium,  an  athletic  field  nine  acres  in  extent  sur- 
rounded on  its  northern,  eastern,  and  southern  sides  by  con- 
crete bleachers,  or  Tribunes  Populaire,  having  a  seating 
capacity  of  22,500  spectators,  and  on  its  western  side  by  the 
covered  concrete  grandstand,  or  Tribune  d'Honneur,  seating 
2,500  persons.  This  truly  imposing  structure  was  built  by 
the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association  at  a  cost  of  600,000 
francs.  On  the  opening  day  of  the  games,  amid  impressive 
ceremonies  and  before  a  crowd  so  huge  that  thousands  had 
to  be  turned  away,  the  stadium  was  presented  by  Mr.  E.  C. 
Carter,  Chief  Secretary  of  the  A.  E.  F.-Y.  M.  C.  A.,  on 
behalf  of  his  organization  to  General  Pershing,  representing 
the  American  Expeditionary  Forces,  who,  in  turn  presented 
it  to  M.  Georges  Leygues,  French  Minister  of  Marine,  rep- 
resenting Premier  Clemenceau,  as  a  gift  from  the  American 
Army  to  the  French  people,  to  perpetuate  forever  its  memory 
among  them. 

It  was  the  privilege  of  the  present  writer  to  be  given  the 
duty,  during  the  summer  of  1919,  of  editing,  for  the  Ath- 
letic Section,  General  Staff,  of  the  American  Expeditionary 
Forces,  the  History  of  the  Inter-Allied  Games,  which  was 
written  by  various   officers   connected   with   the   games   and 

published  by  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.    A  few  extracts  from  this  vol- 
21 


312         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

ume  will  outline  the  interesting  facts  concerning  the  games 
perhaps  better  than  they  could  be  told  in  other  words. 

Arising  out  of  the  epochal  circumstances  of  the  greatest  war 
of  history,  the  Inter-Allied  Games  stand  out  as  an  event  unique  in 
the  annals  of  modern  sport.  Never  before  in  recent  times  has 
there  been  a  gathering  of  athletic  stars  with  a  setting  so  unusual, 
and  it  is  safe  to  assume  that  the  occasion  will  not  be  duplicated 

within  the  memory  of  the  participants Its  only  parallel 

might  be  found  in  the  classic  games  of  the  Homeric  age  when  the 
armies  of  Agamemnon,  "  intrenched "  before  the  walls  of  Troy, 
amused  themselves  with  games  and  sports  not  unlike  the  competi- 
tions at  Pershing  Stadium. 

That  an  athletic  tournament  of  any  sort  could  have  been  held 
after  fifty-two  months  of  devastating  war,  with  the  Allied  countries 
impoverished  by  heavy  losses,  exhausted  by  long-sustained  effort, 
weary  after  a  seemingly  interminable  period  of  fighting,  was  in 
itself  a  remarkable  exhibition  of  the  sportsmanlike  spirit  which  had 
distinguished  the  peoples  leagued  against  the  Central  Powers. 
Inspired  by  love  of  the  game,  a  desire  to  recognize  the  share  that 
athletics  played  in  making  possible  the  victory,  and  the  wish  to  con- 
tinue and  strengthen  the  ties  of  comradeship  developed  on  the  bat- 
tle field,  the  countries  which  had  suffered  most  from  the  war's  deso- 
lation entered  the  tournament  with  the  same  whole-hearted  enthu- 
siasm as  nations  emerging  from  the  conflict  in  a  less  exhausted  con- 
dition. 

The  meet  was  "  military "  only  to  the  extent  that  every  partici- 
pant had  been  an  officer  or  enlisted  man  in  one  of  the  Allied  ar- 
mies. The  question  of  eligibility  was  answered  by  an  affirmative 
reply  to  the  interrogation,  "  Were  you  a  soldier  in  the  Great 
War?"     .... 

The  invitation  to  participate  in  the  Inter-Allied  Games  was 
issued  by  General  Pershing,  as  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Ameri- 
can Expeditionary  Forces,  on  the  ninth  of  January,  1919,  less  than 
five  and  a  half  months  before  the  opening  of  the  events  themselves. 
.  .  .  .  Twenty-nine  nations,  colonies  or  dependencies  were  invited 
to  participate  and,  in  the  end,  nearly  1,500  athletes,  representing 
eighteen  nations  or  dominions,  took  part.  The  list  of  entrant  coun- 
tries differed,  of  course,  materially  from  that  of  any  Olympiad,  as 
only  those  nations  linked  together  in  the  common  cause  of  justice 
in  the  war  were  eligible  to  compete 


The  Playmate  of  Paris  3 13 

In  view  of  the  fact  that  admission  was  entirely  free  to  all  the 
competitions,  the  actual  attendance  at  the  games  could  not  be  accu- 
rately checked.  Only  estimates  could  be  made,  but  a  daily  average 
of  20,000  at  Pershing  Stadium  was  easily  maintained  for  the  fifteen 
days  from  opening  to  closing.  Between  300,000  and  320,000  saw 
the  competitions  at  the  stadium.  As  there  were  several  other  places 
where  events  were  staged  it  is  perhaps  a  very  conservative  estimate 
to  say  that  the  Inter-Allied  Games  played  to  a  gallery  of  half-a- 
million  persons 

The  concluding  ceremony  of  the  games  took  place  on  Sunday, 
July  6,  when  the  medals  were  presented  to  the  victors  by  General 
Pershing,  the  Allied  flags  lowered  and  the  French  standard  left 
to  float  alone  over  Stade  Pershing — now  the  official  property  of  the 
French  nation  —  an  abiding  monument  to  the  most  unique  sport 
carnival  in  athletic  history. 

The  lovely  Park  of  Vincennes  and  the  countryside  and 
suburban  villages  lying  on  both  banks  of  the  Marne  near  it, 
were  described  by  the  author  in  a  chapter  in  "  The  Inter- 
Allied  Games  "  entitled  "  The  Site  and  Construction  of  Persh- 
ing Stadium,"  in  w^hich  he  said : 

For  the  permanent  use  to  which  it  will  be  put  in  coming  years  — 
the  practice  of  athletic  sports  among  the  French  people  —  the  site 
of  Pershing  Stadium  was  happily  chosen.  Situated  within  the  east- 
ern edge  of  the  Bois  de  Vincennes,  on  the  ancient  highway  between 
Vincennes  and  Joinville-le-Pont,  it  lies  in  the  midst  of  what  is  not 
only  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the  many  lovely  parks  of  Paris, 
but  in  the  one  which  is  frequented,  perhaps  more  than  any  other, 
by  the  average  classes  of  the  city,  who,  in  Paris  as  elsewhere,  make 
up  the  body  and  blood  of  its  population.  Of  the  Bois  de  Vincennes 
an  Englishman  wrote,  a  few  years  ago :  "  On  Sunday  afternoons  in 
summer  the  Bois  is  crowded.  Under  every  tree,  along  the  edge  of 
every  lawn,  by  the  bank  of  every  stream,  are  family  picnic  parties, 
easily  satisfied  and  intensely  happy.  Stolid  Englishmen  are  aston- 
ished at  the  eagerness  with  which  grown-up  people  are  playing  at 
ball  or  battledore.  Nowhere  is  the  light-hearted,  kindly,  cheery 
character  of  the  French  middle  classes  seen  to  greater  advantage." 

It  is  precisely  to  these  classes  that  a  great  stadium  for  the  prac- 
tice of  athletic  sports  will  be  most  valuable  because  from  them  must 
come  the  chief  strength  of  generations  able  to  repair  the  cruel 
ravages  of  war  in  the  French  nation.     No  parting  gift  that  Amer- 


314         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

ica  could  have  made  to  her  ally  would  have  better  attested  her  deep 
desire  for  the  speedy  rehabilitation  of  France,  or  have  offered  greater 
possibilities  for  aiding  to  that  end,  than  the  stadium  which  was 
named  in  honor  of  the  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  American  Expe- 
ditionary  Forces. 

Lying  just  without  the  southeastern  walls  of  Paris,  whose  near- 
est gateway,  the  Porte  de  Vincennes,  is  distant  less  than  four  kilo- 
meters, the  stadium  has  around  it  a  region  rich  in  reminiscences  of 
the  eventful  history  of  Paris  and  of  France.  In  nearly  every  direc- 
tion, but  particularly  toward  the  southeast  along  the  lofty  hills 
which  follow  the  picturesque  windings  of  the  Marne,  are  a  number 
of  fine  old  chateaux,  each  with  its  sheaf  of  legends  from  the  past. 
But  the  Bois  de  Vincennes  itself  is  the  appropriate  center  of  such 
a  region.  The  Bois,  whose  dense  treetops,  forming  a  pleasant  back- 
ground of  green,  look  over  the  walls  of  the  stadium  on  every  side 
save  that  occupied  by  the  Tribune  of  Honor,  was,  as  a  fragment 
of  primeval  forest,  a  hunting  preserve  of  King  Louis  ix  (St.  Louis) 
in  the  thirteenth  century,  and^the  weathered  obelisk  which  stands 
near  the  south  corner  of  the  Ecole  de  Polytechnic,  beside  the  main 
road  from  the  Porte  de  Vincennes  to  the  stadium,  is  a  memorial 
erected  on  the  spot  where,  it  is  said,  formerly  grew  a  great  oak 
tree  beneath  which  the  good  king  was  accustomed  to  dispense  jus- 
tice to  his  subjects.  The  original  forest  was  replanted  in  1731  by 
Louis  XV  and  under  Napoleon  in  was  converted  into  a  public  park 
which  at  present  contains  about  2,275  acres,  a  great  part  of  this 
area  being  given  over  to  the  Champs  de  Manoeuvers  in  the  center 
and  to  the  race  course  of  Vincennes  immediately  southwest  of  the 
Pershing  Stadium.  This  race  course  is  the  oldest  and  largest  of 
the  several  around  Paris. 

Immediately  north  of  the  Bois  is  the  suburb  of  Vincennes  which 
originally  grew  up  about  the  Chateau  of  Vincennes,  a  royal  resi- 
dence founded  in  the  twelfth  century  and  used  and  enlarged  by  the 
royalty  of  France  until  1740.  In  this  chateau  died  several  kings  of 
France  and  other  famous  personages,  including  Henry  v  of  Eng- 
land, while  in  the  great  Donjon,  170  feet  high,  which  is  the  last 
one  remaining  of  nine  towers,  a  long  list  of  notable  prisoners  have 
been  confind  at  one  time  or  another.  The  chateau  was  defended 
for  Napoleon  against  the  Allies  in  1814-15  by  General  Daumesnil, 
whose  memory  is  perpetuated  by  a  statue  in  the  town  and  by  the 
largest  of  the  lakes  in  the  Bois  de  Vincennes.  Converted  into  a 
powerful    fort    and    artillery   depot   by   Louis    Philippe    in    1833-34, 


The  Playmate  of  Paris  315 

the  ancient  stronghold  still  retains  the  latter  function.  The  large 
Champ  de  Manoeuvres  and  the  Polygone  de  I'Artillerie,  as  well  as 
the  fecole  de  Pyrotechnic  and  the  Camp  de  St.  Maur,  occupying  the 
whole  central  part  of  the  Bois,  are  all  in  a  sense  military  depen- 
dencies of  Fort  de  Vincennes,  as  the  work  on  the  site  of  the  old 
royal  chateau  is  now  called.  It  is,  indeed,  what  might  be  termed  the 
citadel  of  the  powerful  system  of  detached  fortifications  guarding 
Paris  on  the  southeast  from  the  crossings  of  the  Marne  River  as 
it  approaches  its  junction  with  the  Seine  at  Charenton.  North  and 
south  of  Fort  de  Vincennes  are  several  of  the  bastioned  masonry 
forts  which  guarded  the  city  during  the  siege  of  1870-71,  while 
east  of  it,  on  the  hills  beyond  the  Marne,  lie  Fort  de  Villiers  and 
Fort  de  Champigny,  works  considered  modern  until  1914,  and 
designed  to  protect  the  bridgehead  of  Joinville-le-Pont.  On  the 
nearer  side  of  the  river,  entirely  covering  the  loop  of  its  last  sweep- 
ing bend  before  it  enters  the  Seine,  stand  the  older,  but  once  very 
powerful  redoubts  of  Gravelle  and  Faisanderie,  connected  by  a  bas- 
tioned curtain  separating  the  southeastern  corner  of  the  Bois  de 
Vincennes  from  the  town  of  St.  Maur-les-Fosses,  and  commanding 
from  their  heights  the  whole  populous  suburban  district  embraced 
within  the  bend  of  the  Marne. 

The  traditions  of  St.  Maur-les-Fosses  lead  back  to  the  most 
remote  event  recorded  of  this  region,  for  it  was  here  that  in  the 
year  287  A.  d.  the  Roman  emperor,  Maximianus,  attacked  the  Gallic 
peasants,  the  Bagaudae,  who  had  revolted  against  the  oppressions 
of  Rome.  The  rebel  leaders,  Aelianus  and  Amandus,  lost  their 
lives  and  their  forces  were  utterly  crushed,  Maximianus  thus  mak- 
ing good  for  a  while  longer  the  waning  Roman  power.  East  of 
St.  Maur,  on  the  hills  rising  along  the  opposite  bank  of  the  Marne, 
stands  the  village  of  Chennevieres,  from  which  the  views  toward 
Paris  and  over  the  surrounding  country  are  so  superb  that  Louis 
XIV  seriously  thought  of  making  the  place  his  royal  residence  and 
expending  upon  it  the  vast  wealth  and  labor  which  he  eventually 
lavished  upon  Versailles.  It  was  at  Chennevieres  that  the  long- 
distance and  cross-country  riding  events  of  the  horse-riding  com- 
petitions were  held. 

About  two  kilometers  east  of  Joinville-le-Pont,  whose  railroad 
station  is  the  one  most  convenient  to  Pershing  Stadium  for  su- 
burban trains  from  Paris,  lies,  in  the  lap  of  the  hills  rising  east- 
ward, Champigny-sur-Marne.  It  is  in  the  loop  of  the  Marne  form- 
ing the  bridgehead  of  Joinville-le-Pont,  previously  mentioned.  Here, 
22 


3i6         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

on  the  twenty-ninth  of  November,  1870,  Paris  being  already  in  the 
throes  of  famine,  large  French  forces  under  command  of  Generals 
Trochu  and  Ducret  began  the  most  formidable  of  the  repeated  sor- 
ties which,  during  the  four  months'  course  of  the  siege,  were  made 
at  various  points  in  the  hope  of  breaking  through  the  lines  of  the 
besieging  Germans.  Some  ground  was  gained  on  that  day  and  the 
next,  but  a  bridge  needed  for  the  crossing  of  troops  at  Champigny 
was  not  thrown  in  time  to  be  of  use,  while  the  French  Army  of 
the  Loire,  directed  in  dispatches  sent  by  balloon  to  create  a  diver- 
sion in  the  German  rear,  failed  to  receive  word  in  time  to  make 
the  necessary  attack.  By  most  violent  fighting  the  enemy  was  able 
to  contain  Trochu  and  Ducret  in  the  bridgehead  westward  of  Cham- 
pigny and,  after  clinging  for  a  while  to  the  inferior  positions  which 
they  had  taken,  the  French  retired  on  December  2  to  the  west  bank 
of  the  Marne.  Later  and  less  powerful  sorties  elsewhere  proving 
equally  abortive,  towards  the  end  of  January,  1871,  Paris  surrendered. 
After  the  outbreak  of  war  in  1914,  the  ground  now  occupied  by 
the  stadium  was  converted  into  a  training  area  and  its  surface  was 
covered  with  trenches  and  wire  entanglements  which  had  to  be 
cleared  away  when  the  work  of  laying  out  an  athletic  field  was 
begun  in  February,  1919. 

The  suburban  places  lying  within  the  great  loop  of  the 
Marne  at  St.  Maur-les-Fosses  are  entirely  of  modern  origin, 
but  it  is  different  with  those  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river.  It 
has  been  mentioned  above  that  there  was  severe  fighting 
about  Champigny  in  1870.  A  monument  behind  the  village 
marks  a  crypt  wherein  are  interred  the  remains  of  both  the 
French  and  the  German  soldiers  who  fell  in  the  battle,  the 
graves  of  the  Germans  being  marked  with  the  letter  A,  for 
"Allemands."  South  of  Chennevieres  is  the  sixteenth-cen- 
tury Chateau  of  Ormesson,  built  in  a  lake  and  connected  with 
the  shore  by  two  bridges. 

In  fact,  all  the  pleasant  hill  country  to  the  southeast  of 
the  bend  is  dotted  with  chateaux,  many  of  which  have  remin- 
iscences of  famous  personages  or  events  of  history,  for  it  was 
natural    that    the    country    residences  of  powerful    families 


The  Playmate  of  Paris  317 

should  have  been  built  through  the  centuries  in  close  proximity 
to  the  capital.  About  Sucy-Bonneuil  are  the  chateau  of 
Sucy,  which  belonged,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  to  Marshal 
Saxe,  the  distinguished  general  of  Louis  xv;  Chaud-Moncel, 
once  the  property  of  the  royalist  Dames  de  Sainte-Amaran- 
the,  who  were  passed  beneath  the  guillotine  because  they 
were  rumored  to  have  plotted  against  the  life  of  Robespierre; 
and  the  Chateau  of  Montaleau,  where  Marie  de  Rabutin- 
Chantal,  later  the  Marchioness  de  Sevigne,  lived  as  a  child. 
The  trenchant  letter  writer  of  the  times  of  "  the  Grand  Mon- 
arch," who,  in  her  voluminous  epistles  to  her  daughter  and 
her  friends,  has  left  to  us  probably  the  most  intimate  and 
vivid  pictures  of  the  life  and  the  notable  personages  of  that 
colorful  epoch  which  have  ever  been  penned,  retained  all 
through  life  fond  recollections  of  Montaleau.  Once,  in  later 
years,  she  wrote  to  her  daughter :  "  I  inform  you  that  the 
other  day  I  was  at  Sucy.  I  was  delighted  to  see  the  house 
in  which  I  passed  my  most  happy  childhood.  I  had  no  rheu- 
matism in  those  days ! " 

One  who  has  been  voyaging  for  days  or  weeks  through 
the  reaches  of  the  Marne  Valley  while  it  has  unfolded  before 
him  its  ever-changing  vistas  of  rustic  loveliness  varied  here 
and  there  by  the  presence  of  cities  never  so  vast  as  to  obtrude 
themselves  brusquely  upon  the  breadth  of  the  countrysides  all 
about  them,  is  not  apt  to  find  his  mind  keyed  for  the  sensa- 
tions which  grip  him  when,  after  ascending  the  curving  road 
from  Champigny,  he  comes  to  the  old  parish  church  of  Chen- 
nevieres  and,  crossing  the  brick-paved  courtyard  opposite  to 
it,  steps  out  upon  the  short  terrace  dizzily  elevated  above  the 
treetops  bordering  the  Marne.  For  there  suddenly  upon  his 
eyes,  grown  accustomed  to  the  wide  peace  of  nature,  there 
dawns  across  the  myriad  roofs  of  St.  Maur,  the  vision  of  the 


3i8         The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

City — that  wonder  city  which  is  the  focal  center  of  all  that 
is  exquisite  in  artistic  and  physical  and  mental  emotion;  the 
most  exalting,  the  most  sinister,  the  gayest  and  most  deeply 
mystical,  fascinating  and  soul-enthralling  hive  of  humanity 
that  the  broad  earth  boasts  in  all  its  continents. 

Through  the  pearly  haze  of  the  afternoon  sunshine,  there 
gleam  the  towers  of  Notre  Dame,  eternal  prayer  in  chiseled 
stone  of  the  passionate  heart  of  Paris,  lifting  in  majestic 
calm  above  the  crowded  streets  where  flow  and  ebb  the  arte- 
rial currents  of  her  throbbing  life;  yonder  the  dimly  seen 
entablature  of  the  Arc  de  Triomphe  vaunts  the  chivalric  pride 
of  a  martial  nation  even  as  the  columned,  golden  dome  of 
the  Hotel  des  Invalides  sumptuously  entombs  the  glories  of 
its  past.  At  one  extremity  of  the  splendid  panorama,  like 
the  pillar  of  cloud  set  by  Jehovah  before  the  face  of  Israel, 
rushes  skyward  the  shaft  of  the  Eiffel  Tower,  about  whose 
pinnacle  play  the  invisible  lightnings  that  syllable  men's 
thoughts  across  the  seven  seas,  at  the  other,  upon  the  heaving 
breast  of  sensuous  Montmartre,  the  white  and  virgin  wonder 
of  Sacre  Coeur's  alabaster  dome  and  minarets  carry  toward 
heaven  the  insatiable  longings  and  aspirations  and  repent- 
ances and  frenzies  and  hopes  of  this  Babylon,  this  Rome,  this 
Jerusalem,  that  drinks  and  drinks  perpetually  of  the  waters 
of  life  and  is  still  perpetually  athirst.  Upon  the  terrace  of 
Chennevieres,  gazing  into  the  blue  west,  well  might  the  gods 
of  high  Olympus  stand  and  wonder  and  tremble,  for  there 
the  close-knit  fibers  of  the  composite  soul  of  all  humanity 
would  lie,  stripped  and  palpitating,  before  their  eyes. 

Bonneuil,  Creteil,  and  Maison-Alfort,  stretched  along 
main  roads  leading  to  Charenton,  look  down  from  hill  crests 
upon  the  Marne  and  across  it  to  the  glades  of  the  Bois  de 
Vincennes,  the  back  of  the  grand-stand  at  Vincennes  race 


First  glimpse  of  the  Seine  bridges  and  distant  Paris 

[Page  317] 


z' 


ti<r- 


n : 


'A) 


;%v-  C- A 


<   '-•.;-<; 


\\ 


ri/ 


^r=^-.^ 


'>-*,•  )—ic 


'■■4'-f4-'-       '  - . 


^:fe 


The  Marne  on  the  outskirts  of  Paris 


{Page  320] 


The  Playmate  of  Paris  319 

course,  and  the  grassy  walls  of  the  Gravelle  Redoubt.  In  this 
old-fashioned  masonry  defense  work,  with  its  high  ramparts 
and  superannuated  barbette  guns  of  the  seventies,  the  writer 
found,  in  the  summer  of  1919,  a  group  of  the  huge  search- 
light projectors  and  a  numerous  battery  of  the  antiaircraft 
guns  which  were  used  during  the  war  to  throw  up  a  part  of 
the  search-light  illumination  and  the  barrage  against  night- 
bombing  German  Gothas,  which  encircled  Paris  in  a  wall  of 
fire  and  piercing  light  on  such  occasions,  and  heard  from  the 
lips  of  the  poilus  of  the  guard  still  stationed  there,  some  stir- 
ring tales  of  those  nights  of  terror. 

Behind  the  redoubt,  on  a  space  of  open  ground  beyond 
which  loom  the  buildings  of  the  race  course,  was  a  more 
curious  reminiscence  of  the  war.  Here,  in  long  rows  with 
narrow  aisles  between  them,  lay  rotting  on  the  ground  the 
bodies,  minus  engines  and  chassis,  of  hundreds  of  motor 
vehicles  of  every  description.  Here,  waving  in  the  wind,  was 
the  tattered  velour  of  an  elegant  limousine ;  there,  the  remains 
of  a  taxicab;  yonder,  the  big  top  of  a  truck,  the  lettering  of 
some  Paris  mercantile  establishment  visible  through  the  fad- 
ing coat  of  blue-gray  paint  which  had  been  splashed  over  it, 
as  it  had  been  over  all  the  others.  These  were  the  remains 
of  the  civilian  motor  cars  commandeered  by  the  army  in  the 
early  days  of  the  war,  before  service  camions  could  be  built 
in  sufficient  numbers  to  meet  the  sudden  and  enormous  de- 
mand of  the  armies  in  the  field.  Though  perhaps  none  of 
these  decaying  relics  of  happier  days  actually  participated  in 
the  movement,  one  seemed  justified  in  thinking,  as  he  looked 
at  them,  of  the  long  train  of  Paris  taxicabs  moving  in  shad- 
owy file  along  the  hills  northwest  of  Meaux  on  the  night  of 
September  7,  19 14,  bringing  up  the  troops  to  extend  Maun- 
oury's  left  and  attempt  the  turning  of  von  Kliick's  flank.   In 


320        The  Marne,  Historic  and  Picturesque 

the  quiet  shades  of  the  Bois  they  rest  from  the  labors  which 
were  theirs  until  they  were  worn  and  wracked  to  uselessness 
—  expended  —  as  rest  the  bones  of  most  of  the  heroes  who 
drove  them,  on  the  battle  fields  of  the  Western  Front. 

And  now,  past  the  busy  warehouses  and  humble  water- 
front homes  of  Alfort  on  the  south  bank  and  Charenton  on 
the  north,  past  stretches  of  shady  avenue  and  riverside 
promenades  where  a  few  pedestrians  loiter,  leaning  over  the 
walls  and  idly  watching  the  barges  floating  by,  past  the  enor- 
mous Charenton  Hospital  and  Lunatic  Asylum  which  has 
grown  into  the  "bedlam  of  France"  from  the  tiny  hospital 
of  twelve  beds  founded  here  in  1642  by  Sebastian  Leblanc, 
the  Marne  goes  hurrying  to  embrace  with  its  eager  waters 
the  sister  waters  of  the  Seine.  Freighted  with  the  barges 
and  tugs  of  a  busy  commerce,  but  still  sparkling,  still  gentle, 
still  creeping  modestly  by  stone-revetted  quays  and  smoking 
factory  chimneys,  and  beneath  the  booms  of  overhanging 
electric  cranes,  its  current  sweeps  out  to  mingle  with  that  of 
the  greater  stream,  as  if  rejoicing  in  the  union.  So,  together 
they  go  dancing  away  through  the  walls  of  Paris  to  pass  the 
splendid  bridges,  the  palaces,  and  domes  of  the  He  de  la  Cite 
and  the  Quais  and  the  cool  depths  of  the  Bois  de  Boulogne, 
and  thence  to  swing  down  the  long  remaining  stretch  to  Le 
Havre  and  the  waiting  sea.  Our  journey  with  the  Marne  is 
finished. 

A  few  steps  off  the  Boulevard  St.  Germain,  in  the  older 
section  of  that  half  of  Paris  which  lies  south  of  the  Seine, 
there  stands  beside  the  narrow  and  somewhat  dingy  Rue  de 
Crenelle  a  beautiful  monumental  structure  in  the  form  of  a 
crescent,  nearly  100  feet  in  length  and  38  feet  high.  It  is 
called  the  Fountain  of  Crenelle  and  it  was  erected  in  1738 
from  designs  by  Edme  Bouchardon,  native  of  Chaumont  and 


The  Playmate  of  Paris  321 

sculptor  to  the  Popes  and  to  Louis  xv.  Over  the  portico 
which  shelters  the  fountain,  so  elevated  above  the  street  that 
few  passers-by  even  notice  it,  rises  a  noble  group  of  statuary, 
probably  the  finest  ever  wrought  by  the  chisel  of  the  master. 

Enthroned  on  a  pedestal  in  the  center  of  the  group  is 
the  robed  figure  of  the  city  of  Paris.  On  either  hand  she  is 
,  guarded  by  reclining  figures,  each  couched  among  long  sedge 
grasses  wherein  aquatic  fowl  are  half  revealed,  and  each 
holding  an  urn  gushing  with  waters.  The  figure  on  the  right 
is  that  of  a  virile,  bearded  man,  a  Triton  —  the  Seine.  On  the 
left  is  the  graceful,  rounded  form  of  a  beautiful  woman,  a 
naiad  —  the  Marne.  So  supple  and  flowing  are  the  outlines 
of  the  figure  of  the  goddess  that  the  observer  cannot  resist 
the  feeling  that  beneath  the  cold  marble  is  someway,  as  it 
also  seems  in  the  Venus  de  Milo,  the  softness  and  vitality  of 
the  flesh.  It  is  easy  to  conjecture  that  Bouchardon,  striving 
to  wrest  from  the  stone  his  symbolic  ideal  of  the  river  which 
he  had  known  and  loved  since  he  had  wandered  by  its  shores, 
a  boy,  was  inspired  by  the  warmth  of  a  very  personal  affec- 
tion to  a  mastery  of  interpretation  more  perfect  than  he  was 
able  to  attain  in  any  other  of  his  many  subjects. 

Thus  it  is  with  the  Marne.  To  those  who  know  her  inti- 
mately, she  is  a  person;  a  captivating  naiad,  endowed  with 
the  character  and  many  complex  moods  of  a  lovable  woman 
—  fretful  at  times,  sometimes  perverse,  and  again  furious 
with  the  anger  of  outraged  virtue,  as  she  was  along  the  bat- 
tle fronts  of  invasion,  but  often,  oh,  much  more  often,  shy, 
quiet,  gently  merry;  loving  with  true  and  constant  affection 
to  those  who  love  her.  Such  was  the  Marne  of  the  past 
and  such  is  she  today;  heroine,  patriot,  seer,  and  divinity; 
eternally  old,  eternally  young,  and  wearing  all  her  laurels 
with  the  modesty  of  an  unspoiled  child. 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Academic  Frangais,  34 
American  Expeditionary  Force,   12, 
43,  57,  70,  92,  96,  98,  99,  100,  Id, 

304,  3" 
Aigrmont,  29 

Aisne,  3.  151.  I77,  219,  220,  221,  294 
Alessia,  19,  20 
Alps,  The,  3,  4.  5,  i? 

A  1cQ(*p      Jo 

Alvord,  General  Benjamin,  96 
Amiens,  219 
Andematunum,  9,  17 
Anderson,  Colonel  T.  M.,  237 
Andrews,  Brigadier  General  A.  D., 

95 
Angoulevant,  29,  30 

Antwerp,  42 
Arbellot,  General,  40 
Ardouin-Dumazet,  M.,  135,  136,  i74 
Argonne   Forest,  92,  96,   172,    i74, 

175,  207,  219,  222 
A  1*1  PS    22 
Attila  (Etzel),  24,  25,  14S,  i54,  176, 

178,   179,   191,   192,   193.   195,   190, 

197,  198,  199.  200,  269 
Aube,  177 

Audley,  Sir  Peter,  181,  183 
Augustus,  20 
Aurelius,  Marcus,  20 
Austria,   Francis  i  of,  65,  82,    145, 

^59        _        . 

Austria,  Francis  11  of,  39 

Austria,  Marie     Antoinette,     Arch- 
duchess of,  186,  187,  288 

Avricourt,  19 

Ay,  203,  204,  205 

6 

Babel,  Tower  of,  17 

Baker,  Mr.,  American  Secretary  of 

War,  60,  89 
Balesmes,  12,  13,  15 


Ball,  Sergt.  Clarence  E.,  304 

Barcy,  167 

Bar-le-Duc,  19,  24,  Si,  152,  164 

Bar-sur-Aube,  38 

Bartholdi,  Frederic,  45 

Basle,  19,  36 

Bastille  Day,  103 

Bassigny,  28,  33,  73,  "^  303 

Beaufort,  181,  183 

Beaupre,  Lord  Anceau  de,  183 

Belfort,  Pass  of,  4,  5,  36,  37,   m, 

310 
Belleau,  Bois  de,  248 
Belleau,  Wood  Cemetery,  249 
Bellovici,  17 
Belgium,  King    Albert    and    Queen 

Elizabeth  of,  60,  100 
Berchet,  Toussaint,  34 
Berthelot,  General,  217,  223 
Besangon,  9,  19 
Bibracte,  (Autun),  17,  I9,  24 
Binson,  224,  226 

Bissell,  First  Lieut.  John  T.,  251 
Blaise  River,  3,  19,  155 
Blanc,  Mont,  30 
Blesmes,  235,  243,  245 
Bliicher,  Marshal,    36,    37,   82,    148, 

151  . 

Boehn,  General  von,  217,  220,  226 

Bologne,  119,  123,  124,  125 

Bonheur,  Isidore,  136 

Bonheur,  Rosa,  136 

Bordeaux,  165 

Bos  suet,  Benigne,  286,  287,  288,  294. 

306 
Bouchardon,  Edme,    106,    107,    320, 

3^1 
Bouchardon,  Jean-Baptiste,    58,    85, 

^7.  107 
Bourbonne-les-Bams,  19,  38 

Braille,  Louis,  298 

Brasles,  220,  245 

Brest,  310 

Bretenay,  m,  119 


325 


326 


Index 


Brie,  275.  280,  281,  289,  303,  306 

Brothers  Hospitallers,  13 

Brown,  Colonel,  231 

Brussels.  162 

Bry-sur-Marne,  306,  307,  3o8,  309 

Billow,  General  von,  151,    165,    166, 

169,  171,  236 
Bullard,  Major  General  Robert  Lee, 

291 
Butts,  Colonel  E.  L.,  237 

C 

Caesar,  Julius,  4.  9,  I7.  18,  19,  20, 

23,  178 
Cambrai,  162 

Cameron,  General  George  H.,  274 
Canal,  Marne-Saone,  15,   nS,   nS 
Capet,  Hugh,  63,  123 
Carter,  Mr.  E.  C,  311 
Cary,  General  Langle  de,  161,   164, 

i6s,  169,  172,  222 
Carrier-Belleuse,  136 
Castlereagh,  Lord,  103 
Celarius,  23 

Celts,  Longo,  King  of  the,  17 
Cemetery,  American    Military,    113 
Cerealis,  9,  10 
Chalons,  3,  24,  3,6,  Z7y  7i,  I4S,  148, 

152,   157,   158,   163,   169,   175,   178, 

180,   181,   182,   183,   184,   185,   188, 

189,   190,   191,   192,  193,   194,   198, 

200,  201,  217 
Chamarandes,  57,  60,  104 
Chambry,  167,  278,  295 
Champagne,  26,  63,  65,  123,  148,  157, 

192,  203,  215,   241,  254,  269,  303 
Champagne     Pouilleuse,     174,     i75. 

176,  177,  178,  193 
Champigny,  48,  49,  310 
Changis,  163,  170,  267,  270 
Charenton,  211,  308,  318,  320 
Charlemagne,  26,  28,  51 
Charleroi,  162 
Charly,  236,  254,  255 
Charles  i,  14 
Charles  iv,  49 
Cha  les  v,  zi,  145,  159,  247 
Charles  vii,  31 
Charles  ix,  52,  63 
Charteves,  234,  237,  240,  241 
Chartres,  Duke  of,  128 
Chatel-Chehery,  Heights  of,  96 


Chatelet,  Montagne  du,  140 

Chateau-Thierry,  3,  8,  91,  158,  163, 
170,  178,  219,  221,  222,  223,  226, 
229,  23s,  237,  241,  242,  243,  244, 
245,  246,  247,  249,  250,  251,  252, 
254,  275,  291 

Chatillon,  204,  213,  214,  215,  216, 
217,  218,  221,  225 

Chaumont,  21,  30,  32,,  37,  38,  39,  40, 
42,  50,  57,  58,  59,  60,  61,  62,  63,  64, 
6s,  66,  69,  70,  71,  74,  75,  76,  78,  79, 
80,  81,  82,  83,  85,  86,  89,  90,  91,  92, 
93,  94,  103,  108,  112,  113,  114,  115, 
116,  117,  123,  124,  146,  154,  155, 
256,  305,  310,  320 

Chaumont,  Treaty  of,  82,  102,  103, 
104 

Chelles,  301,  302,  303,  304 

Chevillon,  137,  138,  273 

Chierry,  235,  243,  245 

Chlore,  Constance,  22 

Choignes,  60,  77,  81 

Chrocus,  21,  22 

Claude,  155 

Clefmont,  29 

Clemenceau,  Premier,  60,  311 

Clotilde,  25 

Clovis,  25 

Coiffey-le-Haut,  29 

Compiegne,  162,  219 

Conde,  115,  117,  118,  119,  228,  231, 
240,  297 

Congis,  269,  277,  278 

Constantine,  24 

Conner,  General  Fox,  97,  98 

Conner,  Colonel  W.  D.,  95 

Corgebin,  Forest  of,  86 

Corlee,  12,  15 

Corneille,  215 

Corot,  46,  155 

Correggio,  46 

Cotes  Noires,  149,  150,  152,  153 

Coulommiers,  166,  168 

Coupvray,  297,  298 

Courtemont,  229,  230,  232 

Cousances-aux-Forges,  141 

Craonne,  151 

Craonnelle,  220 

Crecy,  167,  296 

Crezancy,  236,  237,  241 

Cruikshank,  General  William  M., 
2^ 


Index 


327 


Daguerre,  Louis  Jacques,  306,    307 
D'Alambert,  35 
Dames,  Chemin  des,  219,  220 
Damremont  (Barracks),  59,  91,  92, 

93,  95,  99,  loi,  III,  116 
Damremont,  General  Charles  Marie 

Denis,  92 
Dammarien,  Jean  de,  32 
Danube,  River,  i,  4,  192,  196 
d'Arc,  Jeanne,  12,  2>2,  105,  127,  281, 

286,  309 
d'Aucour,  Barbier,  34 
Davis,  General  Robert  C,  96 
Degoutte,  General,  223 
Delausne,  Nicolas,  34 
Denfert-Rochereau,  Colonel,  42 
d'Esperey,  General     Franchet,     164, 

165,  166,  167,  168,  169,  170,  171 
d'Estrees,  Gabrielle,  270,  271 
Dhuis,  Aqueduct,  241,  257,  299 
Dickman,  General,  22,7,  238,  240 
Diderot,  Denis,  35 
Didier,  St.,  21,  34,  144,  145 
Dijon,  4,  7,  13,  19,  41 
Diocletian,  20 
Ditto,  Major,  237 
Dizier,  St.,  3,  71,  "S,  123,  124,  125, 

133,   141,   143,   144,    145,   146,    147, 

148,  149,  150,  152,  154,  156,  305 
Donjeaux,  125,  126 
Donnelly,  Dorothy,  90 
Dormans,  224,  225,  226,  227,  228,  229 
Doubs,  4 

Dubuisson,  Jean,  34 
Duchesne,  General,  220 
Duffy,  Father,  184 
Dunkirk,  89 
Dupont,  M.  Henri,  252 
Dupont,  Mile.,  252 
DiJrer,  Albrecht,  86 


Ecriennes,  157 

Ehrenbreitstein,  Fortress  of,  233 
Eleusippi,  14 

Eltinge,  General  Leroy,  94 
Epernay,  3,  201,  203,  204,  205,  207, 
208,  209,  211,  212,  214,   216,  217, 
,  227 
Epieds,  249 


Eponina,  10,  11 

Esbly,  294,  295,  296,  297 

Essomes,  235,  246,  252,  253 

Etex,  Jules,  86 

Euphrates,  r 

Europe,  History   of,  from   1789   to 

1815,  Alison,  152 
Eurville,  141 


Failly,  General  de,  70 
Faverolles,  19 
Fere,  Forest  of,  249 
Ferte-sous-Jouarre,    La,     163,     255, 

258,  259,  261,  262,  263,  264,  265, 

266,  267,  268,  274 
Fiacre,  St.,  280 
Fifteen     Decisive     Battles    of     the 

World,    Sir    Edvirard    S.    Creasy, 

192,  193,  194 
Fiske,  General  Harold  B.,  98 
Fismes,  225 
Foch,  Marshal,  59,  60,  164,  165,  169, 

170,  171,  172,  208,  220,  222,  223 
Fontaine,  Jean  de  la  (Fables),  241, 

242,  243,  245,  250,  268 
Fontaines-sur-Marne,  139,  140 
Foucou.  34 
Fourches  Hill,  41,  42 
France,    Cathedrals    and    Cloisters 

of     Northern,     Elise     Whitlock 

Rose,  189 
Franche-Comte,  26 
Franklin,  Benjamin,  53 
Fraterne,  Bishop  of  Langres,  24 
French,  Field  Marshal,  164,  167,  265 
Fresnes,  Nicolas  Ebaudy  de,  34 
Frignicourt,  156,  158 
Froissart,  181 
Fiirstenberg,  Count  of,  32,  64 


Gallieni,  General,   165,   166,  168 

Games,  Inter-allied,  99,  311 

Gaulthier,  Bishop,  26 

Gaulle,  Edouard,  35 

Geilon,  Bishop,  25 

General  Headquarters,  American, 
50,  57,  59,  70,  71,  87,  88,  89,  91,  92, 
94,  96,  99,  100,  loi,  102,  103,  310 

Geofrid,  St.,  14 


328 


Ind 


ex 


Geosmes,  St.,  13,  14 

Germany,  Crown     Prince    of,     165, 

166,  169,  172,  220 
Gettysburg,  Battle  of,  60,  224 
Ginisty,  Monseigneur,  24 
Giotto,  184 
Giselles,  9 

Gloriette,  Chateau,  90 
Goele  Plateau,  277,  278,  279,  283 
Goltz,  General  von,  41 
Gondebaud,  King  of  Burgundy,    25 
Gournay,  304,  308 
Gourzon,  141 
Grand-Ecury,  202,  203 
Grancy,  Sir  Odes  de,  182,  183 
Grandes  Combes,  Bois  des,  125 
Gregory,  Major,  231 
Griffin,  Lieut.  H.  Q.,  231 
Grossetti,  General,  170,  171 
Guermillon,  Lord  John  de,  183 
Guises,  Dukes  of,  i2,  63,   128,   131, 

228 


H 


Haig,  Marshal,  60,  100 

Hanlin  Field,  58 

Harbord,  Major  General  James  G., 

94 

Hardenburg,  Prince,  103 

Hasdrubel,  I 

Hansen,  General  von,  165,  166,  169, 
170,  171,  191,  222 

Hautefeuille,  Chateau,  63 

Hautefeuille,  Tour,  72,,  no,  in,  n2 

Hauteville,  156 

Hautevillers,  204,  211 

Hautesvesnes,  273 

Havre,  Le,  89,  310,  320 

Helphenstein,  Second  Lieut.  War- 
ren, 304 

Henry  11,  63,  65,  270 

Henry  in,  31 

Henry  iv,  65,  142,  270 

Hesse,  First  Lieut.  Kurt,  238,  239 

Hilaire-le-Grand,   St.,   184 

Hill  204;    248,  252 

Hindenberg,  Marshal  von,  222,   224 

Holbein,  184 

Horn,  General,  246 

Hospital  IS,  Roosevelt  Base,  60 

Hospital  7,  Camp,  50 


Houghton,  Captain,  251 

Hudson,  3 

Hugo,  Victor,  188,     189,     205,     206, 

261,  284,  285,  288,  291 
Hulst,  General,  38 
Humbert,  General,  171,  208 
Humes,  29,  50 
Huns,  The.  24,    145,    154,    169,    191, 

193,  194,  195,  197,  198.  200,  269 

I 

Ile-de-France,  292 
Independence  Day,  79 
Infantry,  Colonial,  217 
Information,  Summary  of,  97 
Intelligence,  Summary  of,   97 
Italy,  3,  4,  5,  9,   I7,   18,  24 


Jacquemart,  136 

Jacquerie,  The,  281,  282 

Jancourt,  Sir  Philip  de,  183 

Janis,  Elsie,  100 

Jaulgonne,  216,   220,   223,   224,    229, 

233,  236,  237,  238,  239,  241 
Jean-Baptiste,  Church  of  St.,  66,  72, 

82,  85,  104,  108 
Jean -les- Deux -Jumeaux,    St.,    269, 

270,  293 
Jensen,  Nicolas,  34 
Joffre,  General,  163,  164,  166,  167 
John,  Order  of  St.,  13 
Joinville,  126,  127,  128,  129,  130,  131, 

m,  134,  135 
Joinville,  Marguerite  de,  128 
Joinville,  Prince  of,  128 
Joinville,  Sire    Jean    de,    126,    129, 

130,  268 
Jonchery,  in 
Jorquenay,  SO 
Jouarre,  264 

Jovinus,  Flavins  Valerius,  128 
Julian,  24 

Julienne,  Mme  de,  310 
Jura  Mountains,  The,  Z7 
Jura,  The,  4 

K 

Kliick,  General  von,  165,     166,    167, 
168,    170,   265,   275,   277,   278,   319. 
Kock,  Major,  41 


Index 


329 


Lafayette,  53 

Lagny,  296,  299,  300 

Laignes,  10 

Langres,  2,  4,  5,  7.  9.  10.  12,  13,  14, 
15,  16,  17,  18,  19,  20,  21,  22,  23,  24, 
25,  26,  28,  29,  30,  31.  32,  33,  34,  35. 
36,  37,  38,  39,  40,  41,  42,  43,  44,  45, 
46,  47,  48,  50,  51,  56,  57,  60,  66,  81, 
91,  98,  119,  144,  211,  256,  305,  310 

Langres,  Estulphe  Count  of,  25 

Laon,  151,  178 

Lanterne  Encyclopedique,  Delecey 
de  Changey,  52 

Larzicourt,  155 

Laurent-Bournot,  Claude,  34 

Lavalliere,  Mile  de,  287 

Lecouvreur,  Adrienne,  215 

Lefebvre,  M.,  310 

Leipzig,  36 

Leister  House,  6a. 

rfitoile,  Foret  de,  125 

Levy-Alphandery,    Commandant,   79 

Leygues,  M.  Georges,  311 

Lhermitte,  241 

Liberty,  Statue  of,  45 

Liege,  42,  162 

I'Infanterie,  Histoire  de,  General 
Susane,  27 

Lingones,  9,  I7,  18,  19,  20,  21 

Lizy-sur-Ourcq,  274,  275,  276,  277 

Logan,  Colonel  James  A.,  95 

Loire,  IS4,  192,  I93,  I95,  I97,  3i6 

Lorraine,  26,  34,  49,  7°,  I45 

Lott,  Corporal  J.  J.,  231 

Louis,  The  Fat,  128 

Louis,  The  Magnificent,  2 

Louis  VII,  26 

Louis  IX,  (St.  Louis),  63,  314 

Louis  XI,  190 

Louis  XII,  32,  65 

Louis  XIII,  33 

Louis  XIV,   36 

Louis  XV,  85,  314,  317 

Louis  XVI,  186,  288 

Louvre,  Palace  of  the,  53 

Ludendorff,  222 

Luminals,  46 

Luzy,  56,  57 


M 

MacMahon,  Marshal,  70,  71,  184 

Maligny,  Sire  Jean  de,  30 

Malone,  Colonel  Paul  B.,  98 

Malta,  Order  of,  13,  86,  141 

Mangin,  Abbe,  17 

Mangin,  General,  223 

Marathon,  169 

Marbeau,  Monseigneur,  284 

Marchand,  General,  221 

Marcilly,  167,  224,  230,  278 

Marnay,  19,  39 

Marnaval,  141,  142,  143 

Marne,  2,  3,  5,  7,  8,  9,  10,  12,  13,  15, 
16,  23,  29,  30,  36,  2,7,  39,  41,  48,  50, 
51,  52,  54,  56,  57,  59,  60,  62,  67,  77, 
81,  91,  103,  113,  115,  119,  122,  123, 
124,  129,  132,  133,  13s,  137,  138, 
141,  143,  144,  14s,  146,  147,  148, 
149,  152,  153,  154,  155,  156,  157, 
158,  159,  161,  163,  164,  167,  170, 
172,  175,  176,  177,  178,  179,  180, 
181,  182,  183,  185,  186,  188,  190, 
193,  198,  201,  202,  203,  204,  205, 
206,  209,  211,  214,  215,  216,  217, 
218,  219,  220,  221,  222,  223,  225, 
229,  230,  231,  233,  234,  235,  238, 
239,  241,  242,  243,  244,  24s,  246, 
247,  251,  253,  256,  258,  259,  260, 
261,  262,  263,  265,  266,  267,  268, 
269,  270,  272,  273,  276,  277,  278, 
280,  282,  283,  284,  289,  291,  292, 
293,  294,  296,  297,  299,  303,  304, 
305,  308,  310,  313,  314,  315,  316, 
317,  320,  321 

Marne,  Battle  of  the,  208,  212,  217, 
218,  219,  222,  224,  286 

Marne  (Department  of  the  Haute), 
2,  3,  8,  15,  40,  49,  50,  51,  72,  90 
120,    124,   125,   139,    141,    142,   153 

Marne;  A  Hilltop  on  the,  Mrs 
Mildred  Aldrich,  293,  298,  302 

Marne;  Michelin's  Guide  to  the 
Battlefields  of  the,  1914,  279 

Marne;  Sous  I  Egide  de  la,  Edmond 

Pilon,  207,  268 
Marnotte,  Fort  de  la,  7,  8,   13,  41 
Marnotte,  Farm  de  la,  12 
Marshall,  Colonel  George  C,  Jr.,  89 
Martel,  Charles,  243,  244,  247 
Mary-sur-Marne,  272,  273,  274,  276 


330 


Index 


Mason,  Second  Lieut.  Charles,  304 

Matignicourt,  156,  157 

Maunoury,  General,    165,    166,    167, 

168,  I/O.  319 
Mayenne,  Duke  of,  270,  271 
McAlexander,  Colonel,    U.    S.,   237, 

238 
McAllister,  Lieut.  Arthur  T.,  27^ 
McAndrew,  General  James  \V.,  89, 

94 

McClellan,  General  George  B.,  128 

Meade,  General,  60 

Meaux,  3,  158,  164,  255,  261,  264, 
267,  268,  274,  277,  27^^  281,  282, 
283,  284,   285,  287,  288,   290,  291, 

292,  293,  294,  295,  296,  306,  319 
Meleusippi,  13 

Mendenhall,  Captain,  251 

Mery-sur-Marne,  257,  258 

Metaurus,  I 

Metz,  19,  33,  151,  162 

Metternich,  Prince,  103 

Meuse,  15,  29 

Mezy,  163,  234,  22,7,  240 

Micheler,  General,  220 

Mignon,  M.,  137 

Mississippi,  I,  3,  14 

Missouri,  3,  120 

Mission,  Italian,  99 

Mission,  Belgian,  99 

Mission,  British,  99 

Mission,  French,  99 

Mitry,  General  de,  222,  226 

Moltke,  General  von,  288 

Mons,  162,  166  _ 

Montceaux,  Chateau  de,  270 

Montespan,  Mme  de,  287 

Monts  Faucilles,  4 

Montmirail,  221,  22,Z,  240,  241,  245, 

252,  261 
Montsaugon,  29 
Montsaugonais,  29 
Moreau,  Mathurin,  136 
Morin,  Petit,  3,    i;o,   257,  261,  265, 

266 
Morin,  Grand,  3,  166,  167,  168,  292, 

293,  294,  297,  2>8 
"Morrison;  Don,  Lawrence,  Kans," 

12 
Mortier,  Marshal,  2>7y  38,  81 
Moseley,  Brigadier  General  George 

Van  Horn,  95 


Moulins,  Canal  des,  132 
Mouzon  (Valley  of),  19 

N 

Naix-aux-Forges,  19 

Namur,  42,  162 

Nancy,  36 

Napoleon,  4,  5,  36,  37,  38,  103,  104. 
128,  148,  150,  151,  153,  156,  174, 
178,   183,  245,  247,  269,  288,  314 

Navarre,  Tower  of,  32 

Nebel,  i 

Nesles,  245 

Nesselrode,  Count,  103 

Neufchateau,  67,  123 

Neufmontiers,  167 

Xeuilly,  23,  308 

Neustria,  Thierry  iv  of,  244 

Xey,  ^Marshal,  246 

Nogent,  55,  163,  254,  309,  310 

Noisiel,  301,  302 

Nolan,  General  Dennis  E.,  96 

Novelonpont,  Jean  de,  127 

0 

Orange,  Prince  of,  146 
Orconte,  148,  149,  153,  156 
Ornain,  164 
Ornel  River,  144 
Orxois,  8,  272 

Ourcq,  3,  166,  167,  168,  249,  263, 
267,  269,  274,   27s,  276,  277,  278 


Palmer,  Colonel  John  McAuley,  97 

Paris,  3,  5,  35,  36,  37,  40,  42,  53.  58, 
82,  8s,  91,  123,  151,  153,  156,  157, 
158,  159,  160,  162,  164,  165,  166, 
168,  169,  170,  178,  186,  192,  197, 
215,  219,  221,  222,  226,  233,  235. 
241,  243,  255,  256,  257,  258,  264. 
277,  280,  282,  285,  286,  290,  291, 
292,  294,  295,  296,  299,  304,  305, 
306,  307,  308,  309,  314,  315,  319, 
320 

Paris,  Count  of,  128,  I^ 

Paschal,  Major,  237 

Passy,  224,  230 

Pavilion,  Foret  du,  125 

Pennell,  Joseph,  154,  I55 

Perelli,  General,  99 

Perignon,  Dom,  208,  209 


Inde: 


331 


Pershing,  General   John   J.,   43,   ST, 

59.  60.  79.  80,  89,  90.  9-2.  94,  100, 

263,  311.  312 
Pershing  Stadium,  99,  311,  312,  313, 

314,  31S 
Perthes,  15-2.  I33.  154,  I55,   1/9 
Petain,  General,  59,  60,  220,  222 
"  Petit  Paul."  7<5 
Petitot,  Pierre,  34 
Pleurs,  171 

Poincare,  President,  60,  icx) 
Poincare,  Madame,  60 
Poitiers,  31 

Poland,  King  Stanislaus  i  of,  52 
Polignac,  Cardinal  de,  85 
Polhviller.  Baron,  Zo 
Pontoise,  220 

Potomac,  Army  of  the,  60 
Poulangj-,  Bertrand  de,  127 
Pradier.  136 
Provins,  59 
Prussia,   Frederick  William  in  of, 

39.  82 
Pyrenees,  Peace  of  the,  65 

R 

Racine,  215 

Ragneau,  General.  79.  99 

Reims,  19.  ^4.  103,  172.  I75.  I79, 
180.  203.  204,  205,  207,  208,  211, 
217,  219,  220,  221,  222,  223,   227, 

274 
Renaissance.  The.  46,  147,  189,  214, 

271.  288 
Restoration.  The,  35 
Revigny,  Pass  of,  164,  169 
Revolution.  American,  35,  224 
Revolution,  French,  35,  65,  103,  106, 

144.  147.  178,  186,  188 
Revue,  G.  H.  Q..  74.  89 
Rhine,  i,  3,  4,  5,  9.  18,  19.  21,  22,  36, 

51.   14S,   151,   17S,    iSS,   197.   215, 

247.  261 
Rhone.  3,  4,   17.   I9 
Riacourt,  119,  120 
Richelieu.  Cardinal,  34 
Riviera,  The.  88.  256 
Riz.  Forest  of,  226,  230 
Roger,  M.  Georges,  267 
Rognon  River.  126 
Rohan,  Cardinal  de,  85 
Rolampont  50.  51.  52,  53,  54 


Rome,  I,  4,  5,  9.  10,  II,  14,  18,  85, 

156.  194.  196,  198,  199 
Roncevalles,  26 

Rouge,  La  Ferme  le  Croix,  249 
Rowe,  Major,  238 
Rubens,  46 
Russia,  Alexander  of,  39,  82 


Sabinus,  Julius,  9,  10,  11,  12,  21 
Sabinus,  Grotto  of,  9,  12,  235,  308 
Sadie-Carnot,  President      M.,      156, 

157.  184 
Saone,  4,  15,  36,  1 54 
Sarrail.  General,  164,  166,  169,  172 
Saulx  River,  3,  159,  164 
Saussier,  General,  157 
Saxony,  Prince  Maurice  of,  215 
Schuylkill  River,  60 
Schwarzenberg,  Prince    of,    Z^-    27- 

38,  39,  Si.  S2,  148,  151 
Sedan,  166,  184 

Seine,  3,  Z7.  I54,  I77,  211,  292,  304, 
,  305,  2iS,  320,  321 
beine-et-Marne    (Department     of), 

3.  257,  295,  303 
Seme-et-Oise,  3,  303,  304 
Sens,  19 
Sept-Bois,  273 
Sezanne,  159,  164,  169 
Sigmar,  Count,  153,  154 
Smith,  First       Lieut.      Frank      H. 

("Hardboiled"),  304 
Soissons,  172,  219,  220,  223,  291 
Somme  Valley,  220 
Speusippi,  13 
Strassburg.  70 
Summerall,  Major  General  Charles 

P.,  55 
Surmelm,  234,  235,  22,7,  238.  241 
St.  Bernard,  34 
St.  Gond,  Marches  of,  164,  169,  170, 

171,  172 
St.  Mihiel  Salient,  59 

T 

Taneviown  Road.  60 
Tarquin,  The  Elder.  17 
Tassels,  The,  34.  46 
Taylor.  Major,  251 

Teniers.  46 
Thibaut,  iv.  63 


332 


Index 


Thurn,  Count  of,  2)7 

Tinant,  Colonel,  99 

Toul,  19,  ii 

Tours,  99,  169,  244 

Toynbee,  Arnold   J.,   235,   246,   269, 

275 
Trefousse  Glove   Factory,   66,   90 
Treves,  10,  19 
Trilport,  277,  292 
Trowbridge,  John  T.,  268 
Troyes,  24,  2>7,  38,  178,  I93,  3 10 
Twelve  Peers  of  France,  28 

V 

Val-des-Ecoliers,  57,  58,  59,  60,  86, 

118 
Val  d'Osne,  135,  136,  137 
Valerian,  128 
Valentinian,  24 
Valois,  31 
Valley  Forge,  60 
Vandieres-sous-Chatillon,  225 
Vanloo,  46 
Varennes,  233,  236 
Vauban,  Marshal,  36 
Vaux,  248 

Vercingetorix,  19,  20 
Verdun,  24,  22,   iS7,   162,   163,   164, 

166,  169,  172,  222 
Verneuil,  225,  226 
Vervins,  Peace  of,  33 
Vesle  Sector,  59,  177,  220,  224,  225, 

291 


Vespasian,  9,  10,  11 
Villers-Cotterets,  Forest     of,     220, 

221,  222 
Villiers-sur-Marne,    124,     125,    126, 

307 
Vincelles,  225,  226 
Vingeanne  River,  15,  20,  29 
Vitry-le-Frangois,  3,    147,    IS4,    156, 

157,   158,   159,   160,   161,   162,   163, 

164,    175,    178,   201 
Voltaire,  215 
Vosges  Mountains,  4,  5,  27,  70 

W 

Wagstaff,  General  C.  M.,  99 
Wales,  Prince  of,  60,  89,  100 
War,  Franco- Prussian,  39,  42 
War,  Hundred  Years',  31,  63,   178, 

181,  282 
War,  Thirty  Years',  34,  64,  65 
War,  The  World,  5.  42,  70,  114,  I33. 

138,  158,  172,  179.  224,  311 
Washington,  George,  53,  60 
Waterloo,  39 
Watteau,  Antoine,  310 
Wilson,  President,  60,  80,  100 
Wilson,  Mrs.,  60,  80 
Wintzingerode,  General     von,     151, 

152 
Wirbel,  General,  79 
Wiirtemberg,     Duke    Albrecht    of, 

161,  165,  166,  169,  172,  222 


I 


a 

M 

a 
ta 

H 

K 

til 
M 

« 

H 
« 

e 

6 

ft 


IS 


Chatillon-sur-Marr^ 
Jaulcronne  W'//l*'"^^ 


&u 


PLEjASE  DO  NOT  REMOVE 
THIS  BOOK  CARD 


Belleau 
Wood; 

Mont  St.  Per 
Vaux*  ^t^^=^  *Me2u 


ia_ 


«^^iIBRARYa<- 
§  1   ir-'  ^ 


University  Research  Library 


Dormans 


rr» 


^RRE 

4ontmirail 


>i  / 


PO 


-'^ 


r 


NTAIN   .vN^ 
MS  # 


Camp  of  Chalons 


Camp  of  Attila 


«  Va  I  m  «j 


CHALONS-SUR-MARNE 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA      000  253  764    5 


^VITPvY-LE-FRANgOlS 

Matignicourf 
«         ^Perthes 

ST.DIZIER 


N 


W 


SKETCH 

OF  THE 

COURSE 
OF  THE 

MARNE  RIVER 


SCALE 


eia»4«  'J  ■=  20         aj    Kitomeir^s 


f|:\Boloqne 


CHAUMONT 


Rolampont 


^LANGRES 

SOURCE. 

OFTHE   .  ,- 

MARNE  X^~"^, 

—  Balestnes 


i 


I  iplfpilflflpsi 

ill  ilil!  Im 


■P;  htij  ij!  m  St  1 

■\M<im\mm ! 

iiliir 

I   iiiil 

litlli  i  !!i; 


,11 


m  B  I 


mm 

HI    I    it    I 

I 


iittuiyiii 


